The Legend of Zelda: Oceans and Oceans
by heteroceric-heart
Summary: The eternal story of Zelda and Link, post OoT/pre WW. "Why did I leave?" he clarifies softly, and I shake my head. "No. Why didn't you come back?" He stares off into silence, and I begin to think that maybe he doesn't have an answer.
1. L amentation

"I'll come back," the boy had promised, blue eyes sparkling with eagerness, yet also with regret. Those eyes...I never noticed how little they'd changed within seven years. He had always been one beyond his years, a crippled boy robbed of his childhood. This was his home, as far as I was concerned, but he was one of those rare people who were never quite comfortable anywhere. One of those people who traveled, adventured, and searched until their bones grew too weak to search anymore. I may be overreacting, but, historically, those people never tend to "come back". It was all I could do to push the tears back down my aching throat.

Interrupting my musings, he leaped onto the back of his roan, white-maned filly. He adjusted his various packs and weapons. A slight giggle, perhaps more of hysteria than anything else, escaped my lips. Here was a boy (well, a boy to all appearances) cheerfully smiling and armed to the teeth. Bomb bags, arrows, deku nuts, hookshot, and even that monstrous hammer he found in Death Mountain. I have no idea how Epona put up with it, honestly.

With a smile somewhere between happy and sad, he leaned down and pecked me on the cheek. Grinning and waving, he kicked Epona with his booted heels and they both charged across Hyrule Field. The noontime sun, brightly lighting their departure, lit his tunic, the same color as the waving, emerald grass, as he rode away. Then, as I watched, I found myself in a strange emotional state, laughing and crying at the same time.

There have been few laughs since then. Ten years have passed since that last white hair of Epona's tail flicked over the hilltop. Ten long, painful years. At first, I was alarmed at how many tears my body could produce in a single day. But this decreased and dwindled to nothing after awhile. It's easier to live in apathy than to suffer in emotion, after all.

How and when did the ordeals begin? In some ways, I suppose they were inevitable. You see, Ganondorf was not only a power-hungry, cruel tyrant, he was also a sore loser. With his dying thought, he cursed the land of Hyrule. It was not until after I had reverted time that the change became apparent. Three years after the boy had departed, the crops began to wither, right in the prime growing time. It was not just that, either. The river water turned toxic, uninhabitable. Fish and riverlife died. The foul river water poisoned plants beside the banks as well, making vegetation lethal to consume. From here, a chain reaction swept through the ecosystem. Predators reliant on fish and crustaceans died out, which killed other beasts, and so on. Soon, our food resources were nearly exhausted. At first, we thought some horrible plague was sweeping the world, but this was not the case. Only Hyrule suffered.

We knew we were in a terrible predicament. We could not provide our own food anymore, save precious few baked goods. My father took emergency funds from the castle's treasury and purchased necessities from other lands, figuring that this strange phase would pass. Seasons came and went, and still we received no relief. Rations became half-rations, and father began to draw funds from the main part of the treasury. What of the Gorons, Zoras, and others, you ask? The poisoned water failed to infect Jabu-Jabu's sacred pond, so the Zoras were able to carefully live off the fish in that lake. The Gorons eat rocks, and they live on a gigantic mountain. They were fine. People of Kakariko Village, however, suffered our fate. My father sent food to them in exchange for their labor. It was the only way we could refill the rapidly decreasing treasury. As for the Kokiri, well, we do not know. They sealed up the village, and no one has heard word from them.

Anyway, four more years passed and we were in a desperate state. By now, the treasure room echoed with emptiness. Various shamans and the like had attempted to "dispel the curse," but none had any sort of luck at all. If we did not do something soon, we would die out. It was then that father brought an idea to my attention. At this point, I was roughly seventeen, plenty old for marrying. Princes of several neighboring countries were willing to take my hand and join their countries with ours. Hyrule had long been a prosperous jewel, shining tantalizingly out of reach. Most figured this plague would not last very long, and that they could soon take advantage of Hyrule's ample resources. It was so simple. Marry a stuffed shirt, swallow my happiness, throw away any chance of ending up with a blue-eyed hero, but save my people from the destitute state they lived in now. We would never be hungry again.

After a day of careful thinking, I agreed. At first, the princes were a bit daunted by the sheer hopelessness of our situation, but were able to pass it off by looking to the future. All were eager for a union with Hyrule. I felt no preference for any of the kingdoms, so, in the end, I chose the one who would most benefit the kingdom. Rothester's population consisted of a great deal of Hylians who had moved there in earlier times. Most of the people believed in the Goddesses and observed our same customs. I believed that this union would be easiest for the people, less of a shock, and that they would feel more comfortable with some of their own people. I married Hieronymous and became Rothester's queen. I believe that's when the apathy truly began.

Hieronymous was not terrible, at first. After our engagement, we worked out the terms of our union. The people of Hyrule would receive food and shelter for as long as they needed, he gained the rights to Hyrule's assets, and I would become his smiling queen. Before we were even married, Hieronymous' people adored me, nearly throwing themselves at my feet. Hieronymous saw this and decided to take advantage of it. You see, his popularity with the people had decayed over the years, and he hoped that by marrying someone they loved so, his own image would rise. Our wedding was an extravagant affair, of course, one which I absolutely despised. When it came to the wedding night, however, I refused him. After all, our contract said nothing about an heir. Hieronymous was furious at first, but soon just became coldly abusive. Perhaps he thought threatening me behind closed doors was frightening. He was no match for Ganondorf, and if my people were not in such a critical state, I would have shot Hieronymous with a light arrow as well. Using the skills I had learned from Impa and the skills I had picked up in the "Sheik years" I kept him well at bay.

And so three more years passed, which leads us to the present day. I was the smiling, happy queen by day and the cold, unresponsive wife by night. Maybe I was just being selfish, or maybe I just didn't like Hieronymous, I don't know. I thought it funny that the people sympathized with me because I couldn't seem to get pregnant. Ha! Hieronymous, the proud imbecile, was too haughty to contradict them. "After all, how can a king run a country if he can't even control his wife? It would never sit well with the people." I heard him muttering this one night. Bastard. Oh well. It served my purposes. I was, almost, reasonably happy. Hieronymous was off my back, my people were well-fed and no longer poor, and the people of Rothester adored me as queen. I am allowed to walk the streets and talk to both Hyrule and Rothester's people, practice my archery, ride horses, and read undisturbed in my room.

And then you came along, and now my world has been turned upside down. Somehow, merely on sight, you've managed to break my apathy into pieces. So, speak up. You'd better have a damned good reason for showing up ten years later like nothing's happened." I crossed my arms, looking down at the ground in an attempt to blink the wetness from my eyes.

I hear the soft rustle of cloth moving and then a sorrowed sigh. "Will any explanation of mine really satisfy you?" he finally whispers, and I can feel his piercing eyes impaling me.

"You always were a perceptive bastard," I mutter, keeping my voice low. I don't want him to hear the sobs teetering on the edge of my voice.

He chuckles a little, and I can't help but feel the tears dissipate a little bit. "You didn't always curse this much, though," he says, and I can feel him smiling. Then, his tone darkens, and he continues, "I suppose things really have changed, haven't they?"

I snort, very unladylike, I know, but necessary. "I take it back. If you were perceptive at all, you might have picked up a tiny hint from my story that things have _definitely _changed!" My voice rises, a bit hysterically, by the end of that sentence.

"Zelda...," he starts, getting up and walking towards a nearby tree, running his fingers down the rough bark. "Zelda," he begins again, "you know I would have come back if I could have, but I couldn't." He looks at his left hand, where the sacred triangles glow sometimes, and continues, somewhat bitterly, "Other people had need of me. The goddesses had need of me."

I looked at my left hand as well, but not at the sacred triangles. My eyes were drawn to the ridiculous, sparkling diamond sitting garishly on my ring finger, "Well, I had need of you too," I mutter, hating the way the setting sun makes the diamond sparkle cheerfully.

His eyes are drawn to where mine are focused, and his face saddens. After a moment of pause, he opens his mouth to say something, but whatever he was going to say is lost as we both hear footsteps rounding the corner. He slips into the bushes noiselessly. Technically, we were doing nothing wrong, but it's better not to raise a fuss.

Roland, one of the palace guards, clomps into the little garden. He claps a fist to his heart and bows deeply, saying, "Your Majesty, His Majesty requests you begin preparing for the ball now. His Majesty also wishes to discuss some matters beforehand. If Her Majesty would please follow me?" His eyes are still on the ground, his body still frozen in a bow.

I sigh. Normally, I would tell the guard to go ahead, that I'll be there in a moment. Naturally, Hieronymous takes it out on the poor fellow. Although I desperately want to talk with the blue-eyed hero, no matter how much he has upset me, I actually like Roland. He is a decent fellow, and I won't subject him to Hieronymous' temper. I sigh, and reluctantly follow Roland around the corner, who has risen from his bow at this point.

I hear a barely perceptible rustle back in the garden, no more than leaves caught in a breeze, and already regret my decision. Niceness be damned, I should have stayed. I sigh internally, careful not to reveal my distress to Roland.

I am beginning to regret so many things.


	2. E ventide

Like everything planned by Hieronymous, the ball is extravagantly vulgar. Too-brightly-colored banners and decorations hang from the walls, clashing horribly with the blindingly bright, formal clothes waltzing around the room. Hieronymous has insisted the people wear extremely bright colors, not only as a happy tribute to the royal anniversary (which is what this ball celebrated), but also because he knew I would be gritting my teeth the entire time. I do not get away scot-free for refusing him, you see. He finds other ways to torture me.

Fortunately, my dress is not so terrible. I was wearing a lavender and white, floor-length gown, with intricate stitching decorating the bodice. One of the ladies-in-waiting has managed to gather my hair in a fashionable way atop my head, securing her work with thousands of pins and decorating it with pearls. My scalp is pricked every few steps, and my feet are screaming from the ridiculous shoes I am wearing, but I am having a fairly decent time. The music, played by an expert string band, is absolutely beautiful. I close my eyes and hear the dark thrum of the cello, humming the deep chords under my breath.

I do not know who I am currently dancing with. He is Lord...something or other. The ball had started out with Hieronymous and me dancing, alone, to the first tune. Oh what a joy _that_ had been. It was all I could do to refrain myself from stabbing him with my deadly heels. Well, after that song had ended, the rest of the court joined in, and I was soon being passed from partner to partner. Lord Something or Other passes me on to another gentleman. Gentleman and I danced around the room, eventually waltzing past the windows on the south wall, which have been opened a crack to reduce the heat. As we float by, I froze. Quickly making a decision, I pretend to get lightheaded from the heat, which is still unbearable. Gentleman looks down at me with concern. "Are you feeling ill, Your Majesty?" There is frightened concern on his face. Ha. I told you I am loved.

I blink my eyes, as if dispelling dizziness, and reply weakly, "I'll soon be fine, dear sir. Thank you for your concern, but I just need a moment outside to regain my breath. Excuse me." With a queenly exit, I slip out the ballroom doors, making sure to keep up the fainting facade along the way. As soon as the cool night air hits me and the doors shut behind me, I kick off my shoes and walk, barefoot, toward the south end of the courtyard. There it is, what had drawn me outside in the first place: ocarina music. I had heard this tune countless of times as a child, from my nursemaid Impa, but also from another source. "Hmm...hm hm..hmhm hmm...hm hm...hmm...hm hmm...hm hmm...hmhm hmm..." I hum the tune lightly to myself and smile. Impa had dubbed this "Zelda's Lullaby," as it was the only thing that was able to lull me to sleep when I was distressed. Now, however, I find myself becoming more awake with anticipation rather than drifting to sleep, because I know whose mouth is coaxing those notes out of the ocarina.

As I walk past a final hedge, I see him sitting on a bench under the willow tree. The small creek twinkles in the moonlight, casting reflected wave-patterns onto his green tunic. His eyes are closed, his quick fingers flitting over the ocarina's holes. Although I had been quite upset earlier today, I find I can only smile as I step into the little garden. I have never been able to stay angry at him.

His blue eyes lazily open, latching onto mine, asking silently, "Am I forgiven?" His lips and hands continue playing the soft melody, the notes harmonizing with the cello and violin music drifting through the windows.

I simply smile and hold out my hand. "Dance with me, Hero."

He ends the song for a final time, letting the last note linger in the night air. Then he sets the pale blue instrument on the bench and rises, making his way toward me. In the proper fashion, he bows, arm across his midsection, and then offers his hand. I take it without hesitation.

I place one lace-gloved hand at his waist and another within his own leather-gloved one. His other hand rests lightly at my waist, and I can feel the heat emanating from his fingers through my silk, lavender gown. The fingers from my left hand and his right intertwine, fitting together perfectly. Slowly, we begin swaying back and forth, moving our feet to the whisper of music flitting into the courtyard air. I find that dancing is much more enjoyable when one's feet aren't incased into a shoe-iron maiden, of sorts. Perhaps dancing is more enjoyable also because of whom my partner is. Perhaps I like the way I can look into his sapphire-blue eyes without raising or lowering my head. Perhaps I feel safe in his grip, gentle, yet firm and protective. Perhaps I can't help but drift back into dreams I had wished upon so many times before, dreams in which I had not married Hieronymous, or any prince, for that matter.

He breaks the silence hesitantly, asking quietly, "So, are you still angry with me?" His blue eyes are so probing, intense, that I find myself averting my gaze.

I answer, "Not really, not anymore." I sigh and glance back into his eyes. "I'm more angry with myself, actually," Surprisingly, I find that this is exactly what I feel. My emotions always seem so much clearer when I'm in his presence. He manages to coax the truth out of me without even realizing it.

"You have no reason to be angry with yourself, Zelda," he answers me firmly, although I notice his gaze flicks over to the ring on my finger, the hand that was intertwined with his.

"Yes I do," I retort, years of disappointment and frustration spilling out. "I should have figured out how to break the curse instead of just stall its effects, I should have been stronger for my people, I should have pleaded to the Goddesses more, I should have refused to marry Hieronymous or anybody else, I should have had faith that you would return and rescue us, I...I should have never let you ride away at all!" I feel hot tears prickling my eyes. Oh dear. Years of apathy dammed up all this emotion, and now it's spilling out.

"Zelda," he softly says, and I decide I like the way he says my name, "First of all, how could you have imagined what Ganondorf would do, and how could you possibly figure out how to dispel his evil (if, indeed, there actually is a way) when you had an entire kingdom to worry about? You have always been a strong leader, confident in your actions, and I know your people see that. Praying? Hah. Goddesses be damned," I gasp slightly as he says this and he continues, chuckling a little, "Sorry, I suppose I've grown a bit bitter toward them in my absence. And as for me, well, I don't know if you could have stopped me. I was trying to find myself, I suppose, and I guess I didn't realize until years later that I've always known where to find myself after all," he pauses, lifting his hand from my waist in order to gently wipe a tear off my face. "Don't cry," he pleads, smiling at me.

Of course, I begin crying all the harder, both with joy and bitterness. I can't help but laugh at his uncomfortable face. Give the Hero of Time a dozen monsters to slay and a King of Evil to defeat, and he's fine, but give him a crying woman and he has no idea how to handle himself.

We dance in silence for a while more, and I eventually regain control of myself. His eyes stay focused on me, despite the beauty of the garden, and I can't help but feel flattered. I begin to think of the present situation, and find myself asking, "What are you doing here?...No, I mean, I'm glad you're here, but what are you doing here in _Rothester_?"

He smiles at my stammering and answers, "Well, I'm just staying at an inn right now, keeping a low profile. Since there aren't many "Hero" positions open, I'm planning to enter the military...or maybe become a royal bodyguard for the queen," his eyes twinkle as he says this, and I find that his smile is infectious.

"I suppose I'll _have_ to put in a good word for you," I say airily, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face, "After all, who would hire a ruffian like you anyway?" Playfully, the corners of my mouth creep into a smile despite my efforts.

His face suddenly turns mock-arrogant, and he says, "Well, I doubt that will be necessary, my dear. After all," I laugh as he unexpectedly dips me, his strong hand supporting my back, "I am _incredibly _talented," his face is only inches from mine, and I feel a blush creeping into my cheeks. Damned fantasies, slipping into my head at the most inopportune times.

Unfortunately, we both are startled out of the moment as we hear a distant voice calling, "Your Majesty? Queen Zelda?" I sigh as he lifts me back into a vertical stance and slowly retracts his fingers from mine.

"You're being summoned, I suppose," he says, his face gloomy with disappointment.

My expression is no doubt a reflection of his. I guess I can't go five minutes alone somewhere without being bothered. I look at him, my eyes apologetic, and tentatively say, "So, when shall I see you again?"

He smiles, simply says, "Soon," and begins walking towards the bench. After he picks up the Ocarina of Time and securely places it in one of his pouches, he adds, "Oh, and I promise

you won't have to wait nearly as long as ten years." With a half-serious, half-joking smile, he hookshots into the top of a tree that reaches over the wall. His eyes lock with mine one last time, blue meeting blue, and then he slips over the garden wall.

I sigh and slowly walk over to the bench, sitting down on the cold, veined marble. Moments later, a couple of ladies and lords round the corner, their gait as hurried as possible (after all, the ladies are still wearing heels.)

"Oh, Your Majesty, thank heaven!" Blonde-haired lady (all right, so I'm not great with names) clasps her hand delicately to her heart.

"Your Majesty had disappeared for so long that I had feared Your Majesty had succumbed to some illness!" Gentleman adds. I expected him to add one more "Your Majesty" just for good measure. No? Hmm. Surprising.

"No, dear sirs and ladies. I am quite well, but thank you for your concern. The beauty of the garden simply distracted me," I reply politely, although inside I am screaming, "Damn you, why must you worry over every tiny, minuscule thing?! Might I just have wanted a walk in the courtyard?! I was having a perfectly fine time with a certain hero when _you_ interrupted us!"

Gathering myself, I force myself to ask, "Is the ball coming to a close, or is there dancing to be done yet?"

Lady..uh..Canary (ugh, what an awful yellow dress) answers, "Your Majesty, I believe the evening is nearly done. People are dispersing to their rooms as we speak, I assume, Your Majesty."

"Very well," I nod, "then I shall simply return to my room as well." With this statement, I rise from the bench and head toward the ballroom doors. I need to pick up my shoes, after all.


	3. G ardens

Morning light begins filtering through my curtains all too quickly. I sit up lazily, disgruntled and squinting against the light. Last night had not been pleasant, as I had tossed and chased after sleep through every late hour. For some reason, I had been restless, my mind's gears still running even though my eyelids had dropped shut. As I sit up in my queenly bed, hugging the sheets to myself, I realize just why I hadn't been able to sleep. For the first time in many years, I am excited. After all, a certain Hero and I have much to catch up on.

I climb out of bed, disentangling myself from my sheets, and head for the dresser. As I grab garments and appropriate shoes from the closet, I wonder just where he has been all these years; what lands has he traversed, what monsters has he battled, what people has he met? I smile. Yes, there will definitely be stories to tell.

I sigh as I dress in the gown I have chosen. I suppose stories will have to wait. Today I will be needed at a military ceremony, inducting new soldiers and promoting deserving veterans. It isn't the actual ceremony I dread, it is the socializing and polite words necessary afterwards. I will be stuck in a stuffy chamber for at least a couple of hours, hours that could be spent hearing tales of distant lands and catching up with an old friend. Oh well. What must be done must be done. With a final resigned sigh, I exit my chambers, slipping on my queenly mask.

I smile pleasantly at the other inhabitants of the castle as I descend the stairs, but not so much that I seem overly-friendly. I concentrate on placing my feet delicately, gracefully, but firmly so that I will not stumble on the stairs. Years of being a princess and then a queen has done wonders for my posture, but I still make sure to keep my neck and back straight, all the time conscious of the light circlet resting on my head.

My eyes survey the Royal Hall, stained glass windows throwing myriad patches of color across the floor, their rainbow hues touching the shoulders of ranked soldiers. Silver swords and burnished boots gleam brightly, shining like stars swimming under the masks of rose, emerald, cobalt, and gold light. Stiff armor stands at attention, not a single chainmail link quivering under the impulse to move. Rothester's lot certainly is a disciplined bunch.

Quietly and gracefully as a ghost in a dream, I make my way toward our double thrones. Hieronymous is already present, distaste and dispassion slipping into his expression. Such ceremonies are regulation, and although this day is generally a cause of celebration for the soldiers and the honored, he finds a way to become bored with the whole process eventually. As I take my seat next to Hieronymous, I hear a unified, nearly mechanical chink of armor and thump of mail as the soldiers offer their respect. They rise from their bow after a moment of silence, and then the ceremony begins.

It is a routine affair, beginning with honoring old and young war heroes alike. Their feats are read aloud by the residing scribe, and then they are presented with some token of appreciation, usually a medal or monetary award. As I sit listening to these daring bouts of recklessness and courage, thoughts of another, far grander hero steal into my mind, and I begin to compare him to these soldiers. Sure, this soldier slew a treacherous wizard, but who destroyed Twinrova, the twin witches? What is acting as a spy in enemy lands compared to conquering six evil-infected temples, venturing into three other similar dungeons, and finally ascending Ganon's Tower? What is killing an enemy officer compared to vanquishing the King of Evil, the Gerudo King of Darkness?

These comparisons, albeit biased and slightly unfair, keep me occupied throughout the honor portion of the ceremony, and then it comes time for new recruits to be accepted. I pay careful attention to this section of the ceremony, and I study each face as their helmets are removed and their shoulders are tapped by the general's sword. Each face is a bright hope that 

soon fades into mild disappointment under my eyes as I search for one face, one pair of eyes among them. Hadn't he said he would become a soldier, or something of that sort? Where is he? Far more quickly than I expect, the last recruit rises from a kneel and replaces his helmet, marching to where his fellows stand. I am careful to not let my posture slouch or my face to twitch into dissatisfaction, but something must have alerted Hieronymous, for he glances my way in curious suspicion.

"Something the matter, my dear?" His cold gray eyes ask the question just as much as his words do, but in a far more dangerous tone. We do not have a very trusting relationship.

"Nothing more than sleep deprivation, as I experienced disturbing dreams last night," I reply softly, guarding my expression into careful nothingness.

He looks away, more in disgust (I assume) than anything else. He knows I am lying, and I know he does not even really care. Such is how our relationship has evolved and settled over the years.

"I believe I shall retire to the gardens," I say to Hieronymous after nearly two arduous hours of congratulating soldiers. Today's ceremony insures much dancing, celebrating, and closing of shops (a near festival, in fact), so it is unnecessary for me and Hieronymous to remain in court.

The gardens are, without a doubt, my favorite part of the castle. Over the years, I have modified this place so, perhaps subconsciously, it greatly resembles the late Hyrule Castle's gardens. Sometimes as I sit here, I can delude myself into believing my land is not poisoned, that if I just look over the wall I will see the rolling hills and trees that fade into Castle Town. This place is now a piece of my home, carefully strung together with memories and the fragile hope that one day I will sit in my own garden in Hyrule.

My courtly dress sighs softly as I tread among the flowers and foliage, barefoot once again, my ornate shoes lying forgotten by the bench. From over the wall, I can faintly hear the joyous tremor of music and cachinnation carried on the breeze. For seconds, minutes, hours; I know not how long I lingered in that place, trimmed grass peeking from between my toes and the playful wind ruffling my hair. I smile in a strange sense of contentment and bend to catch a whiff of the flowers before me. As I closed my eyes and inhale, I hear the clatter of a chain and the thunk of blade upon wood. Turning, I see him vault over the wall, land, and detach his hookshot, each move pure and polished with years of practice.

He smiles at me, and I smile back, my smile helplessly turning into a careless grin that I have not worn in such a long time. "Hello," I begin lamely, my clever strings of intelligent chatter flown off somewhere among a blue sea.

"Hello," he echoes, a tinge of amusement leaking from the tip of his mouth. He finishes packing away his hookshot, hiding it in some secret pocket.

Coherent thought decides to give my mind another try, and I say, "You should probably refrain from doing that. I can simply invite you to the castle, and there will be no more need for sneaking around. It is really a wonder you haven't been caught."

"Dear Zelda, have you forgotten my grand "sneaking around" your guards when I was a child? Have a little faith, please," he chuckles softly, and I do as well, recalling the startled look on Impa's face when she found he had so easily snuck into my garden. "Besides, I am still wary of...flaunting my existence through the castle doors," he continues, "You know how private of a person I am."

I sigh, remembering exasperated days, and set myself down upon the marble bench. A small, reminiscing smile creeps onto my features, and I can't help but laugh. "Yes, I know all too 

well how you like your privacy. Why, it was nearly impossible to get you to speak to me at all! I don't think you spoke two whole sentences the first time we met, or even after that. It took every ounce of my patience and speechcraft skills to keep a conversation going with you. You became especially annoyingly shy after all that hero business was done and Ganondorf was finished," I pause and then mutter to myself, "but I suppose it wasn't really finished, was it?" There is little bitterness in my voice, only a trace, but my words sigh with longing and a terrible homesickness that not even this garden or its green-clad visitor could silence.

I hear him sit next to me, and I can nearly hear his mind searching for what to say. I am only glad that he is willing to say something, instead of repeating those shy years.

"I visited Hyrule today," he says at last, but instead of a sad or haunted tone, I hear a happy inflection to his words. "Even though it may not be as I remembered, there are so many places, so many memories still," His ocean eyes turn to smile at mine. "Do you remember that day we snuck out of the castle and went all the way to Lake Hylia? I was surprised that Impa's glare failed to fry both of us into ashes on the spot when she found us, but I don't really think she was too terribly mad. After all, she couldn't stop smiling. Oh, she glared with a demon's malice, but she never stopped smiling," he pauses and muses, "It was a rather odd expression, come to think of it."

I explode with laughter, and I suppose I look surprised (after all, I haven't laughed so hard in years), for he takes one look at my face and echoes my merriment. I savor each laugh, the sound of our joy mingling under willow branches. Between gasps of air, I stutter, "Do you remember that day we climbed onto the castle roof using the hookshot? It was the most terrifying and thrilling thing I'd ever done."

"Oh yes, I remember. You wouldn't loosen your grip at all; I thought you were going to suffocate me and we would both fall to our deaths," he adds, beginning another bout of laughter.

"Oh!" I suddenly exclaim, remembering a detail, "Remember how long it took the guards to find us? They were running around the grounds, looking in barrels, and...and tearing up bushes!" At this point, I can't continue, and my poor diaphragm is probably being bruised from such abnormal activity.

Eventually, we both calm down enough to gain back normal speech. But, this settled state does not last, as we continue to unearth the old stories and daring escapades of youth. For a moment, I worry that our loud laughing will have drawn attention, but the sound of the festival over the walls puts to rest any worry that I had. Memory after memory is spoken, and I soon find that I am exhausted from the joy of it all. I know that this happiness will be hard to hide, and I only hope that Hieronymous becomes blind before I see him next. Even then, though, I suppose my voice would prove traitor. No doubt he, and others, will be suspicious (or even alarmed), but for the first time in a long time, I truly do not care.

I have not been this happy in ten years.

"Come with me," he suddenly says, his face still merry, but his words serious. Before I can ask, he provides, "Why simply speak of these stories when we can relive, remake them? The whole town is celebrating; no one will notice one more face. Come with me." His blue eyes ensnare me and I, helplessly, find myself agreeing with enthusiasm.

"But a queen is likely to be missed, so I shall have set up a simple ruse. I will go up to my room and declare my retirement of the day. All know that I am not to be disturbed after I shut my door for sleep, so none will notice that I am not there," I turn to him and continue the second half of my plan, my eyes shining with excitement. "Go now, and wait for me at the fountain in the central square. I shan't be long, but you may not know me when you first see me. Do not worry. 

I will find you," I finish, eager to set my plan in motion. He nods in agreement with my idea and takes out his trusty hookshot. We give each other one quick glance and go our separate ways (for the moment) with a parting smile.

My body and heart scream to make extreme haste to my bedroom, but I find myself slowed by the wisdom seeping from my left hand. I am in agony, slowly gliding through the hallways toward my seemingly impossible goal. I am trapped within a tortoise's skin, trying futilely to succeed in a race with a dragon. My room lies only a staircase away, and I feel as if eternity shall beat me there. The only factor slowing my steps now is the near fact that I will most surely reach the fountain before him anyway.

Ah, here is a pleasure. Hieronymous comes within sight, disdainfully sprawled in his throne, a place he often goes to restore his ego. His mocking voice hails, "What is this, _dear_ Zelda? Does the eve fade so quickly for witches?" He dares only speak so at times like this, when all of the castle are out in the streets, merry and deaf to words spoken on these stones.

My cold eyes turn to his, all traces of laughter thoroughly frozen. Long has he referred to me as a witch, a spawn of some demon trickster, sent to defile and ensnare his kingdom. What destroys his pride the most is that he knows he cannot be rid of me. If I were to leave, his people would leave with me, such is their love for me and their distrust of Hieronymous. Thus, I am wicked.

"Do not say such hateful words, please. I am merely tired and wish to rest in peace, before those clamorous revelers return," I say calmly, choosing to ignore his jab for the most part and halt the retorts jostling on the tip of my tongue.

"Well then," he responds, his lip lifting into a sneer, "pray don't let those...ah, how did you phrase it?...ah yes, those "disturbing dreams" of yours keep you awake this night, _wife_." His eyes, claymore-gray, bore into mine, and I quickly tear my gaze away. With dignity and an air of insulted injustice, I return to my terribly-slow trek. Still, I am disturbed by his words and inflection, the accusation lingering between syllables. As I climb the winding stairs, I attempt to push it to the back of my mind, saving my mind for the revelry to take place this night. But, still, worry lingers there.


	4. E xultation

With relief, I finally hear the satisfying click of my door shutting behind me, closing me off to the world for tonight. Well, to all appearances, anyway. With a heightening grin, stretching into joy, I begin my transformation. First, I make my way toward the nightstand; such a piece of furniture that looked so ordinary never held such simple secrets. I open the middle drawer and push the garments in it toward the back. My nimble fingers search the seam for an impossible crack, and my fingernails quickly mark the place. With a bit of maneuvering, I hear the satisfying sliding sound of the secret lid moving back. Lying in this hidden place is a near plethora of secrets. There lies my diary (not written in any recognizable language, mind you.), my Sheikah garments, my old royal Hylian dress, a bundle of unremarkable clothing, and a small stack of mismatched parchment, tied with a bow. I smile as I lift the parchment up, reminiscing younger days. These notes are evidence of the secret correspondence between a certain hero and myself, back before he left. The writing is not visually beautiful (after all, heroes are not made to be calligraphers) and the papers themselves are tattered (several of them had been shot from a bow, or accidentally left in the rain), but I had kept them still, and treasured them.

I place the parchment carefully into the drawer again, back to the business at hand. I grab the pile of plain clothing from the drawer. These clothes are peasant garb I acquired long ago, sometimes using them as a disguise when I traveled among the people. I had an ordinary pair, for everyday days, and a slightly dressier pair, which I assumed would be more appropriate for tonight. I sort out the fancier garments and put the rest back in the drawer, deftly sliding the compartment back in place and replacing the rumpled clothing on top. Without further ado, I begin the change.

After donning my commoner fashion and storing my queenly garments away, I head over to the vanity and work on my appearance. I concentrate for a few moments, shaping the words of magic in my mind, caressing them as a lover does another into acquiescence. When I open my eyes, the face in the mirror is not mine. My golden hair is a rich brown, which I begin braiding down my back. Green-brown eyes stare back at me as I continue my work, finishing quickly. My face is even altered; my cheekbones less pronounced, my nose shorter, my skin slightly darker. Overall, I am satisfied with my appearance. With one last glance, I draw a deep breath and close my eyes. I once again feel the familiar flying sensation as the magic coils around me. When it unwinds, the sound of laughter fills my ears.

I have arrived in a shadowed alley, as was my design. This is where I usually arrive on my escapades, but the streets were never quite this crowded. For a moment, I am worried that the joyous crowd may have spilled into my secret space, but with relief, I glance around to notice that my arrival has not been noticed. Without further delay, I make my way to the fountain as quickly as possible, weaving my way between revelers. The sound of impromptu singing with only laughter for accompaniment fills my heart with joy, and for the first time, I do not regret my decision in the least bit. I would never have denied my people this happiness, this carefree exultation. With lighter steps and an excited heart, I dance and hum my way toward the center square.

The fountain is a construct of beauty; pure marble Goddesses spouting water from their cupped hands. The three deities are crafted beautifully, every ripple and sigh of their garments captured immortally in stone. Crystal clear water arcs from their hands, diving into the shimmering pool below. Contributing to its shimmering quality are countless coins thrown in tribute and thanks to the Goddesses. My eyes search the fountain and its surrounding area for an unruly patch of blonde hair, but as I had predicted, I have beaten him to our meeting place. I sit down on the marble edge of the fountain, careful not to accidentally plop into the water (that would be just the thing, wouldn't it?). I watch the people dancing and swinging about, and a slow smile creeps up on me.

I see him ducking his way through the crowd, carefully avoiding swinging arms and waists. It is strange, in a way, to see him without his usual green tunic and cap. Instead, he has opted for a crimson alternative, its collar and sleeves embroidered with a bit of silver stitching. The red highlights his ocean eyes and blonde hair very nicely. His regular fairy cap is missing, leaving his hair to fall about whichever way it pleases (although, it did seem to suit him, and _I_ was definitely not going to be voicing any complaints). I notice the portable armory he usually carries on his person is missing, but I do not assume he is unarmed. He is never unprepared or surprised, it seems.

Although, now he does seem a bit lost. He, like myself, opts to sit on the marble edge and gazes at the crowd, searching. I decide to have a bit of fun and say, "Waiting for someone, are you?"

Snapping out of a trance, he looks at me and allows a small smile to grace his features. At that moment, I am absurdly jealous of...well, myself, I suppose. My commoner self. "Yes, in fact I am. I almost expected her to be here before me. She always seems to be one step ahead of everything," he chuckles to himself. Then he turns to me and parrots my question back, "And are you waiting for anyone?"

"Well, I _was_," I say, slowly getting up and walking toward him, "but it seems my waiting's come to an end." I stop in front of him expectantly, and I keep my mirth tight behind my lips. I had told him I wouldn't look like myself, but he's still searching for my blonde hair and blue eyes, I suppose. I can tell he doesn't recognize me, and is formulating a polite way to turn "me" down. "Come on now, Hero," I say softly, "It's terrible manners to keep a queen waiting. Shall I have to invite myself to dance?"

He stares at me in shock and stands up slowly, his eyes rolling my words over in his mind like waves. "Zelda?" he questions cautiously, a lock of hair flopping down over one eye.

Now that won't do. "Who else?" I say, laughing, as I move that troublesome lock of hair to one side. "Although," I warn, poking him in the chest, "it would probably be best if you called me "Molly" in public settings instead. No need to rouse suspicions, hm?"

He laughs and nods, "Very well...ah.."Molly." Now then," he continues, taking the hand that I used to poke him within his own, ungloved one. I have noticed that sometimes the Triforce acts a bit like my heartbeat, responding to my emotions. Now, its light flickers softly, reacting to the warmth of his hand as he holds mine, and it burns as bright as my veins when he lifts my hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against my fingers. "Shall we dance?"

It's amazing, really. One tiny thing like that, and I'm blushing as furiously as a new bride. I don't exactly trust my voice at the moment, so I opt to laugh happily instead, grabbing his hand and flinging us both into the fray. I lose all sense of time as we whirl and waltz through the crowd, sometimes being stolen by other partners, other times losing sight of each other entirely. But it did not matter, for it made it all the sweeter when we found each other again. Like a tide, we find ourselves following the flow of a vein of the crowd, eventually leading us to an edge. When we stumble out of the throng, our lilting laughter following closely behind, we find ourselves on the opposite edge of town. Our eyes meet, taking in eachother's sweating brows and exhausted breaths, and with small chuckles, we unanimously decide to forgo another round of dancing. Instead, he walks over to me, taking my hand in his (and I am surprised the burning light of my Triforce didn't singe his hand as my own nerves were stinging) and we walk into the quiet wilderness surrounding the town.

Our steps eventually lead us to a forested hill, and we collapse against the treeline, our hands still clasped. More of exhaustion than daring, I lay my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. Our panting evolves into synchronized, soft breaths soon enough; reluctantly I open my eyes. As much as I would love to lie here, falling asleep alongside him, I could not. My eyes follow the horizon, noticing the soft blush rising into the world. Dawn is coming, and I could not linger much longer.

"You have to leave, don't you?" he whispers softly, lazily opening his eyes as well.

I nod sleepily, resisting the urge to allow my eyelids to droop shut. With much reluctance, I retract myself from him, standing up and slowly stretching my muscles. "Well," I begin, hating every word I am about to speak, "I should make my way back now." I do not look back at him, for that would make it all the harder for me to tear myself away. I close my eyes, relying on the shadow of the trees to mask the magic, and begin gathering the words and power within myself.

"Wait," he speaks, taking my hand, and my concentration is shattered. He slowly rises from his relaxed position, and I can see the gears turning behind his eyes. "When is the next day you will not be required in court?"

I pause, as much to think as to be with him that much longer, and finally answer, "The Goddess' day is four days away, and no one is supposed to work then. No one is allowed into court that day. Technically, Hieronymous and I aren't supposed to work either, but I usually use the time to catch up on paperwork or other tedious necessities."

He nodded, and a scheming smile snuck onto the corners of his mouth. "Well, would you like to take a little trip that day? I have something I would like to share with you."

I agreed eagerly, "Yes, of course!" and continue in a more rational way, "Where and how shall we meet?"

He chuckles at my readiness and thinks for a moment. Seeming to come to a conclusion, he then says, "I will leave Epona in the stables for you. Surely, one more horse won't be noticed?" He questions, tentatively, and I shake my head. "Good. Then, all you will need to do is ride her. Trust me, she'll know where to go."

I nod, excited and disappointed at the same time. Excited that I will be able to see him again, and disappointed that I will have to wait as long as four days. Oh well. I suppose four days _is_ a shorter time than ten years, and with another of our meetings to look forward to, I find that leaving isn't as terrible as before. "Until the Goddess' day, then," I say finally, smiling.

He smiles back. "Until the Goddess' day."

I step further into the shadows, gathering the magic within me once more, only this time my eyes remained open. Once again, I feel the swirling, shimmering tingle across my skin as the magic takes a hold of me, and when I reappear in my chambers, I can still see his eyes gazing back into mine.


	5. N octurne

Four days is a more tediously long time to wait than I had first imagined. The days crawl by as slowly as a nightmare leaves a child, and the nights are even worse. Despite this, I manage to keep up my Queen of Rothester facade, which is considerably harder now. I want nothing more than to run up and down every staircase and balcony, singing of how happy I am, but this action would most likely leave me with a broken neck, or the appearance of a broken sanity, so I refrain from doing so.

I spend the days lost in dreams and paperwork, getting as much out of the way as I can before the Goddess' Day. Hieronymous, as usual, is suspicious of my diligent behavior, but he says nothing. After all, my work is his gain, and for once it seems I am not an impossible burden to him.

I also make a point to visit the stables daily, taking good care of Epona and ensuring she is healthy and happy. As I predicted, none of the stablehands questioned where she had come from, as I am known to sometimes purchase a horse without notice. I even wash and feed her myself sometimes (although this is a bit scandalous as far as the stablehands are concerned).

So I manage to work those pesky four days away after a time, and before I know it, I am sitting at dinner on the eve of the Goddess' day. Dinner is usually a dull and silent affair, as most of the time Hieronymous and I dine alone. We rarely speak to each other, and when we do converse, our talk covers pointless and tired topics. Of course, should we have guests we are more lively and talkative, but this is rare. Tonight, we dine alone, and only the clink of silverware on plates echoes within the empty chamber. The fare, as always, is exquisite and exotic; it is beyond my understanding how the cooks are so creative. As wonderful as the food is, I find myself subconsciously hurrying through the meal and force myself to slow down. In between bites of a delicious fruit, I decide to tell Hieronymous of my plans.

"Hieronymous," I begin, "I am planning to take a little trip tomorrow, so do not expect to see me around the castle." I finish in an affirmative, but offhand tone. I want to get across to him that this is something I _am_ going to do, no matter what his opinion is.

"I suppose that's why you've obsessed over paperwork these past few days, hm? Of course, foolish of me to think that you would do anything without some sort of selfish gain," he says in an accusatory tone, and I clench my hands tightly under the table in anger. "All the same," he continues, as if he never spoke any inflammatory words, "I shall arrange a guard to accompany you."

That is it. That is the final insult. I do _not_ require guard accompaniment; I have _never_ had need of protection. Not after surviving seven years with only my will to survive and my magic. Not after Ganondorf. I have only ever needed to be rescued when I was younger, and there had only been one hero strong enough to do so. And that hero would be with me, all the same, so there was no reason for any sort of _accompaniment_!

But, still, I could not say these things to Hieronymous. I could not reveal that I would be meeting someone, especially a male someone, on my trip. So, instead, I speak to Hieronymous with as much civility as I could gather, "That will not be necessary. I am able to defend myself extremely well, thank you."

Hieronymous closes his eyes for a moment, and I hear the edge of a growl under a sigh. "_Queen_ Zelda," he says softly, rising from his throne and walking toward me slowly, "are you implying that I should allow...nay, even _consider_...allowing my people's beloved beauty and joy to ride out into the wilderness with nothing but her silly head to protect her from savage beasts and men?" He stops in front of me and barks, "Well?"

I do not flinch. I stare him straight in the eyes and stand up, my height competing with his. "Allow me to teach you a history lesson, _King_ Hieronymous. There was once a princess who lived at Hyrule Castle. When the King of Evil came calling at her father's door, she was too young to fight, so she fled. She was trained in the art of combat by her _Skeikah_ nurse and friend. For seven years, she fought evil in the disguise of a Sheikah, and when the Hero of Time emerged from the Temple of Time, she protected him and guided him toward his goal. Together, she and the Hero defeated the King of Evil and healed the land. Do you think that princess really needs to be coddled?" I finish fiercely, my eyes blazing.

"So you say," Hieronymous scoffs, derision painting his face. "You've told me such a tale many times before, and I've yet to believe it. If your miraculous story indeed took place, then why does no one remember those events, hmm?" he mocked, his tone sarcastic. "Why, even dear old daddy Harkinian doesn't "remember" that happening, does he? And if your claims are true, then where is your precious hero? Why didn't he save your land from starvation, when it was in dire need?" And still he doesn't stop, doesn't spare me at all, "No, the only fraction of truth hidden in that convoluted web of lies you are so fond of spinning is that you are a princess. A spoiled, brat of a princess whose only use is her beauty. And if I let you out of those doors alone, chances are you will fail to return!"

"Then just let me go," I shoot back, "If you despise me so deeply, then just let me leave and die, as you are so sure that I will!"

"And who will get blamed for your death, Zelda? Who will suffer the discontent and anger of the people? I will! The people will blame me if anything happens to you!" he roars with a rising temper, "They will not say, "Stupid Zelda, wandering by herself. It's her own fault she was killed", no, they'll say, "Stupid, despicable Hieronymous, letting our beloved Queen out of sight. It's his fault she lies dead." So get comfortable in this castle, because I'll be damned if you ever leave it again!" In a rage of frustration, he sweeps off, his fury ringing with every footfall.

For a moment, I stand there, quivering in silent rage, tempted to rush after him and throw in my last words. But I stop myself. After a moment of quiet contemplation to myself, I sigh and cover my face with my hands. Stupid. I shouldn't have riled him up like that. I doubt he'll keep to his promise and refuse to let me leave the castle, as he has threatened similar things many times. Still, no good could come out of inflaming his temper so. I laugh bitterly. Well, maybe some good could come out of it. Enough times and I just might cause his vessels to burst from the pressure.

I look at the now barren dining hall, ringing emptier than it had before. I couldn't even hear the muffled clink of the servants in the kitchen. Our loud argument must have stalled them. They were the few in this castle that knew the true relationship between Hieronymous and me, and they would retain that secret to their graves. After all, Hieronymous didn't like his secrets left to the ears of servants; he cut their tongues out not an hour into their service of him.

Well, I certainly am not going to linger here among these grim thoughts and still-brimming plates. Hieronymous's anger will pass just as quickly if I am absent as if I am here, so there is no point in me staying a moment longer. And who knows? He might just barricade my bedroom door shut the moment I step inside; no, if I'm going to leave, it has to be now. Not permanently, of course, as attractive as that notion is. I won't leave my people here in the hands of Hieronymous alone.

As I walk briskly along the corridors and passages, taking a shortcut to the stables, I admit to myself that I hadn't planned on leaving in the night. There are some nocturnal dangers I hadn't accounted for in my original planning. Still, even this thought doesn't stop me, and I can only think of how wonderful it will be to see him again and finally have a chance to really catch up.

The stables are quiet, as I had expected, and I am careful not to disturb that quiet as I make my way toward Epona. Carefully and silently, I gather up her tack and saddlebags and lead her out of the stable, tiptoeing around sleeping stablehands. She requires no rein; she simply follows me. Outside, in the shadow of the overhanging roof, I saddle her quickly, deftly loosening and tightening straps with as much care as I can muster. In no time, she is ready, but I begin to realize that I am not really equipped to go riding. After all, I'm in heels and I'm wearing a very cumbersome and not at all riding-appropriate evening gown. Well, I guess I should have thought of that before I swept out of the castle with so much determination and resolve, hm? Experimentally, I search through one of the packs attached to Epona's saddle as an idea comes to me. Food. Damn. Next one. What is...oh, this must be a sleeping pallet. No use in rolling that out. Beginning to get frustrated, I open the next pack. Spare tunics and...aha! Spare pants! I had hoped he would have kept some on Epona, who seemed to serve as his living, moving home. Now I am not only reassured about his hygiene (honestly, I thought for the longest time he wore the same thing day in and out), I now have a pair of riding pants!

Admittedly, they don't fit at all. I slip them on under my gown to find that they are very loose, and the hems are several inches past my feet. However, once I roll them up and place my heels into a pack on Epona's back, I think I am sort-of attired to ride a horse. I lift myself onto the saddle (rather clumsily, I'll confess) and shove the folds of my dress to the back. My bare feet manage to reach the stirrups, which I had adjusted earlier. The cold metal against my feet isn't the most welcome thing, and I am sure to have bruises later, but I don't really mind. After all, it's not as if I'd need to steer this particular horse or anything. With the beginnings of a grin on my face and a satisfied sigh, I bend over Epona and speak softly into her ear, "Now, girl, where is it we're going?"

Epona gently snuffles and pricks her ears up. With a sense of foreboding, I grab the reins and clutch them for all I am worth. With a little whinny, she bolts; not quite as fast as I'd feared, but plenty fast enough. In a cloud of moonlit dust we disappear, and I can't help but let one exuberant laugh escape.

Once we get going, galloping at a generous but not exhausting pace, I begin to worry about leaving tracks. Hieronymous might just be mad enough to send guards after me in the morning. But my fears are absolved as I notice that Epona is charging along mostly stone paths, occasionally breaking off and taking a grassy route. And since dear King Hieronymous has no idea where I am going, I become satisfied that he will never find me.

I frown as I think back to our earlier argument. A twinge of remorse strikes me; I had been acting a bit like a brat, whining for what I wanted until I got it. Still, it is a hard thing, risking your life for your people and then not having them remember it. Not having anyone remember that you don't need to be coddled and protected, that you are strong.

I wonder sometimes how _he_ dealt with it; after all, he had sacrificed so much, including his childhood, to save a people who didn't even remember what he'd done. Not his fault, of course. We had both decided, that day after we'd sealed Ganon away, it would be better to return them to a time when those seven horror-filled years hadn't occurred. I had insisted on it, especially since I felt I had robbed him of his childhood and innocence unnecessarily. So, I had returned his childhood, those lost seven years to him. Never his innocence, though. I could never erase the injuries, the loss, all the battles he had fought.

My mouth quirks up into a tender smile. I suppose even if all that _could _be erased, he still wouldn't be innocent. People who have been in love never are, after all.

We grew...quite close during and after the battle with Ganondorf. Of course, one can't go through something like that with another person and _not_ feel connected, but this was different, deeper. After Ganon was sealed away, we didn't immediately reverse time. We took some time to rest at the Great Fairy Fountain nearby, wash away the grime and evil from the battle. It was our private paradise in a world that still reeked of hell. In that quiet place, we talked for hours on end, and we covered everything from grass to goddesses. When our injuries were all but gone and our muscles began to grow slack from inactivity, we even took to dancing. We must have looked a right pair of fools, really, but we enjoyed it immensely all the same. Sometimes we would sing while dancing, perhaps in the hope that our random feet would find some sort of rhythm in the tune. Often, however, we were so full of laughter that it was all we could do to keep standing. I smile as I remember one song in particular, sung while my hero and I were dancing. He had taken it into his head to compose a song for me, a sweet romantic thing. I will admit it was no masterpiece, filled with simple rhymes and meter, but I would give anything to have him sing it to me every day.

That magic pool was a place outside of mortality, I suppose, for we never felt hungry or tired. We simply stayed and healed, enjoying each other's company. I am still never sure how long we stayed there. It could have been minutes or mortal years, but we never felt time's pull. When we exited that cave, we were just as we had been, only healed, stronger, and very much in love.

For a few days, we tried to fool ourselves into believing that we could continue living in this broken land, that if we just gave it some time, people would live again. But the world had suffered too much. So, I told him about the ocarina, about reversing time back seven years. He agreed, albeit reluctantly, and promised to come see me as soon as he was able. And then seven years seemed to melt away like nothing. He kept his promise, and snuck into my garden the very day I reversed time. We were once again children, although a look into our minds and hearts would disprove that notion. We both remembered everything, adults trapped in children's bodies. I still loved him, and he loved me, for not even time could erase that.

That is why it stung me so deeply, killed me so completely when he made his ten year absence. One or two years I could have managed, but _ten_? Makes a girl wonder, you know? If he no longer...loves me as anything more than a friend, then I suppose I'll have to be content with that. For now, at least. But what drives me up the wall is that I don't know what's going on, and what exactly went through his head those ten years, or the real reason why he left in the first place. I still don't have any real answers from him, and I aim to get them.

A low neigh from Epona interrupts my musings, and I turn my attention to the night at once. By now, we have strayed from the clean and orderly stone roads of high traffic and converged into a lesser known, more rocky path. Patches of weeds and flowers jut from between crooked stones, sighing against each other in the night's breeze. I hear the patterned, sharp sound of Epona's hooves against the stone: clack-ity clack-ity clack-ity clack-ity...and then another sound interjects into the noise. It is a strange, rattling sound, irregular and jarring the rhythm I have subconsciously adjusted to. I turn my head to stare into the shadows on the side of the path, turning to my left and right respectively. Eyes the color of burning coals stare back, set into moonlit bones and clacking jaws. Ah, so that is the source of the noise: stalchildren. Once, perhaps when I was a child, being surrounded by stalchildren in the middle of the night with no one beside me might have scared me, but not now. And despite their burning eyes and menacing appearance, they do not seem as though they wish me harm. They almost seem curious, as children of any kind should be.

So Epona and I ride on, our curious entourage following closely behind.


	6. D escant

When I begin nodding off in the saddle, I decide perhaps Epona and I should take a break. Although she does not seem to be winded (I know she's had to travel under much more harsh conditions) she might appreciate a rest, too. The clacking stalchildren to either side bother me, yes, but if they posed a true threat I doubt Epona would be as calm as she is now. So, with cautiousness, I pull on the reins gently and say, "Hey, girl, what would you say to taking a little rest, hmm?" Seeming to get my point, she slows and then stops completely. I ease myself out of the saddle, taking care to set my bare feet gently on the rocky path.

I take Epona's reins in my hand and begin leading her toward the treeline, keeping the magic within me close in case I should need it. My prediction seems to be ringing true, however, and the stalchildren have not made any move to attack us. Instead, they form a ring around us, some of them slinking back into the trees. A bolt of panic shoots into my nerves at first, as I think they must be surrounding us for hostile purposes, but that panic swiftly changes into wonder. They almost seem to be...protecting us? Now _that_ is odd.

Taking reassurance in Epona's calm composure, I decide I could afford to slip into sleep in their presence. I think about taking the saddle off of Epona, so she could rest comfortably, but what if we need to get away quickly? Besides, she doesn't seem to desire sleep anytime soon; she still stands, eyes and ears alert and watching. So, I take the sleeping pallet from the back of her saddle and spread it on the forest floor. With a grateful sigh, I lay down on it, my body (especially my aching feet) thanking me for the respite. As I slip into a slumber, with stalchildren and Epona standing sentinel, I smile. It smells like him.

Only by dawn's threat do the stalchildren disappear; otherwise, I think they might have followed us forever. It is with a certain amount of surprise that I notice the dawn's fingers curling over a distant hillside, gently prying open my eyes. It seems my "little rest" had lasted

longer than I'd anticipated. Well then, I suppose it's a good thing I got an early start, as unplanned as it was. Once I had packed away the sleeping pallet and checked the saddle straps, Epona and I set off; she leading the way and I merely clinging to her, thinking.

After a short while, a distant sound whispers into my ears. It is music, and its volume is growing greater with every minute. I sit up straighter in the saddle after a few moments; I _know_ that tune. I look down at Epona's racing form with greater comprehension. Of course! That is how Epona seems to know exactly where she is going; she is following her song. And, I notice with some trepidation, she seems to be following it right into the thick of the forest. Normally, I enjoy jaunts into the wilderness. However, I am currently riding a charging horse who will most likely make several jarring and frightening jumps and swerves over and through pointy branches. I can only pray that both my eyes will remain un-stabbed by the end of the journey.

As an extra precaution, I squeeze my eyes shut as Epona thunders through the trees, lying as close to her and gripping the reins as tightly as possible. I feel her jump over obstacles a few times, feeling my own heart leap each time. Some branches whip at my body, but Epona seems to be taking the brunt of it. Sooner than I expect, I feel Epona slow, her whinnying halt bringing a deep chuckle from a familiar voice. Cautiously, I crack open my eyes, forcing myself to loosen my grip on the reins. We've stopped by a stream, I can see, and the forest seems to be less dense in this area. Satisfied that she'll be moving no more, I relax and sit up in the saddle. With care for my bruised feet, I lower myself from Epona's saddle and I feel two supporting hands help me do so.

His amused eyes take me in, and he gasps in between laughter, "You know...you make quite a...quite a sight, Zelda!" He plucks a twig from my hair carefully, tossing it among the brush.

I laugh along with him, imagining how I must look: bare feet, mussed gown, wearing his overly-large pants under said gown, leaves and other bits of forest caught in my surely tangled hair; I was probably quite a sight indeed. "Haven't you heard?" I say, drawing myself up in mock haughtiness (although the effect is ruined by my still-grinning face), "The ladies of Rothester have opted to take on a more natural look," and I promptly snap a twig off of a nearby branch and stick it into my hair defiantly.

We are still laughing after we'd removed the saddle and other paraphernalia from Epona's back. Once freed of her burdens, the mare twitches her fur and gives a low whinny of happiness. She drops to the forest floor, rolling on her back in pleasure. Following her example (sans the rolling about on my back), I flop down to the grass carelessly, having little concern for the state of my clothing at this point. My throbbing feet bear several nasty bruises from the saddle's metal stirrups, and I stare at them woefully.

I hear him plop down next to me. Almost immediately, he notices my poor feet. "Goddesses, Zelda!" He looks at me from the corner of his eye with a wry smile as he rummages through his pack for something, "You know, there are these wonderful things called _boots _that sane people wear when riding a horse."

I just give him a look, smiling at his sarcasm despite myself. "I'm not a completely hopeless adventurer, you know. I had everything planned perfectly, but I hit a little... snag..," I blush a little, remembering my childish shouting match with Hieronymous, "so I ended up leaving earlier than I thought."

"I'd wondered how you got here so quickly. Bolted in the night, huh? Here, put this on those bruises," he says, handing me a bottle filled with a red gel-like substance. "Well, it's a good thing I sent the Stalchildren for you after all," he mutters almost to himself, closing up his pack again.

I pause from opening the bottle and stare at him, comprehending what he just said. "Wait...what? They were following your...orders?" I ask incredulously, thinking that surely, _surely_, I must have heard him wrong.

"Well, yes. I thought you would probably leave in the morning sometime, rendering their guidance useless, but I asked them to search for you last night, just in case. I dared not play Epona's Song too early, in case you two hadn't left yet and she galloped off without you, so..," he trailed off, seeming to believe that a satisfying enough explanation.

I feel a stab of pain in my feet, so I uncork the bottle and begin smearing the goo on my tender skin. "But _how_?" I finally ask him.

He just grins at me, eyes sparkling, and says, "Oh Zelda, I have so much to tell you."

And so he begins his tale of Termina, a strange land that apparently parallels Hyrule. A land that is, to his account, inhabited by near-twins of quite a few Hylians.

"And there are _three_ Ingos!" he exclaims, "You know, the farmhand at LonLon Ranch? There are three brothers in Termina that look exactly like him. Two of them run a shady ranch, but one of them is a fairly decent fellow that performed with a circus. I thought I'd gone mad the first time I stepped into that town!"

He elaborates on Clock Town to me, including all of its interesting residents, and then continues by describing to me the terrain of the land, how it was similar to Hyrule, but significantly different.

"I saw the sea," he says, and I see a hint of childlike wonder creep into his features. "Lake Hylia is beautiful, Zelda, but it's nothing compared to the sea. I'll take you there one day," he promises softly, and then continues in his telling.

After describing the doom of the land, the giant moon that was scheduled to crash into the town in three days by the machinations of a masked skull kid, he interjects, "The mask that the skull kid wore was a very terrible mask, Majora's Mask, and it eventually took control of him. The Mask was the reason the moon was going to fall. In order to stop the moon from falling, I needed the help of the Four Giants." He then tells of how he collected masks from each of them after destroying the evil that bound them.

"But...three days?" I say, shocked, "How could you have possibly done that in three days?"

"Well, I really didn't," he states bluntly, and then continues, "so I suppose the people of Termina owe a great debt to you as well, Zelda." He then lifts the Ocarina of Time from his belt and lets it rest in his hands. "This ocarina and the Song of Time that you taught to me so long ago allowed me to summon the Goddess of Time, who reversed time back when the moon's fall became too imminent."

He told me of the Mask's defeat, how he called the Giants to stop the moon from falling and then battled the Mask inside the moon. Termina returned to normal after his victory, and the skull kid became who he used to be. Free of the Mask's influence, the skull kid reunited with his two fairy friends, Tatl and Tael, and befriended the strange, green-clad boy who had saved him.

"And then Epona and I left," he finishes, his eyes lost in memory. Snapping out of his recollection, he leaps up, says, "Wait here a moment," and then walks off, searching for something. When he returns, he has a good-sized pack slung over his shoulder, odd bulges and points defining the bag's shape. He upturns it near where I'm sitting, and masks of all shapes and colors fall to the grass.

"Masks, as you may have figured out, play a significant role in Termina," he explains as he sits back down, "and these are the ones I collected from my journey. This one," he says, picking up a strange, skeletal one that reminds me of a Stalfos' face, "is how I am able to communicate with and command Stalchildren. It once belonged to a great general in Termina, and apparently its influence has reached into Hyrule and beyond. At first I was not sure these stalchildren would obey me," he admitted, "but they seemed to understand its significance well enough."

I looked at the myriad of masks wonderingly, trying to imagine how each of them were attained. My eyes spot a Deku mask among them and I ask, "Is this the mask from the curse the skull kid set on you?"

He nods, "Yes, and that was actually the first mask I obtained," he pauses and then continues, "I like being a Deku for a while well enough, but that mask just has bad memories attached to it. I thought I'd be a Deku for the rest of my life, which at that time seemed about three days. The other two aren't much better, as they are the result of two deaths," he says sadly, pointing out the Goron and Zora masks.

I nod understandingly and search for something to lighten the mood, which has taken a bit of a sad turn. I chuckle as I spot a very...interesting...mask."What's this?" I ask, holding up what looks to be a mask of a great fairy, long eyelashes and pink hair included.

"Oh...that," he says, laughing, "well that had a very practical use! When I wore that, I could gather the Great Fairies together more easily...," but the rest of his sentence was drowned out by my laughter. I had been lost when he said, "when I wore that", because the mental image I conjured was too hilarious for me to handle. Body of a hero. Head of a fairy.

"Put it on!" I manage to gasp in between laughs, "Please!"

He adamantly refuses at first, but finally gives in, much to my enjoyment and my poor diaphragm's pain.

We have a great time with the masks after that, trying them on and laughing with each other. The only mask we don't use is the Giant's Mask, which we both agree would draw too much attention. I even got to see him change into the Fierce Deity for a few moments, and I have to say–it was an impressive sight. I also saw him as a Deku, Goron, and Zora, as he seemed to warm up to them after a while (and I privately promised to myself that I would _never_ let Ruto see him wearing the Zora mask).

It is only later, as I am running my fingers over the fine details of the Wedding Mask, that I remember my fervent quest for answers. I trace the engraving somewhat sadly. He had told me the story of this mask, that it was the result of the happy union of Anju and Kafei. It reminds me of my own stiff marriage to Hieronymous, and the man I should have married instead. The man sitting next to me who, noticing my change in mood, has started to form a question.

"Why?" I ask, beating him to it, daring him to ask, 'why what?'.

"Why did I leave?" he clarifies softly, and I shake my head.

"No. Why didn't you come back?"

He stares off into silence, and I begin to think that maybe he doesn't have an answer.

"I'm in love with you," I whisper through the knot in my throat, not daring to look at him. "And you said those same words to me years ago. Wasn't that reason enough to return?"

He closes his eyes and sighs, but not before I catch a glimpse of suffering in his eyes. He curls his fists tightly and leans back against a tree, hitting his head sharply against the weathered bark. Softly, he admits, "This is why I left, Zelda; I can't endure moments like these."

I draw back, stung. Of course, I had been mentally preparing myself, guarding myself, willing myself to accept that he might reject me...but deep down I suppose I had never thought he would. He left because...he didn't want to _endure_ my ill-guided affections. It made perfect sense, but I could make no sense of it at all! What were all those careless dances? What were all those shared smiles, and secret meetings in the garden? Moisture fogged my vision, despite my iron-strong demands to my brain that any tears should keep themselves firmly behind my eyes. No more foolishness. It's about time I stopped making a fool of myself.

Discreetly blinking, I cleared my vision and spoke, gathering my skirt and standing up, "Well, perhaps I should be getting back, I mean it's getting late (which I realized as soon as I said it was a lie, because the sun was shining cheerily above)...I mean, it shall be late by the time I arrive, and...and, well, Hieronymous is bound to be fuming–"

"Don't say his name," he says sharply, interrupting my rambling.

"W-what?" I stutter, taken aback.

He opens his eyes and looks at me, the pain still tossing in his eyes like a storm. His eyes scrutinize me, and I'm caught. Suspicion creeps into his visage, and he questions, "Why do you think it killed me to hear you say those words, Zelda?"

"Well, I suppose it's because you hate to hurt my feelings," I finally utter quietly, and then continue hastily, "But you're my greatest friend, and I can understand if–"

"Zelda," He chuckles softly, "I apologize. I don't believe I've explained myself properly." Intrigued and carefully hopeful, I sit back down, waiting for his promised explanation. "Zelda, who besides us remembers what happened with Ganondorf?" he began.

"No one," I answered. Those seven years were our lonely secret.

He nods and continues, "Well then, without those seven years, I can hardly be recognized as anymore than a commoner, and an orphan at that, can I? By worldly standards," he interjects quickly, seeing that I am about to object. "You, on the other hand, are of royal blood, destined to marry another royal and have royal children. How was I, peasant that I was, supposed to marry you when we both know your father is a stickler for the rules?" he pauses for a moment, and then continues, "If I couldn't marry you, then that meant that some other man would, and I just couldn't stand to watch that happen. I knew there was nothing I could do to prevent that, short of kidnapping you. Which, believe me, I was seriously considering for a while. In the end, though, I left. Alone. I hoped that, eventually, you might forget me and learn to be happy. Then the goddesses brought me back here, and all those hopes were drowned in the selfish urge to see you. We met in the garden, and you told me of everything that had happened in my absence...including your husband.

So, that's why I don't want to hear his name. And that's why it kills me when you tell me you're in love with me, because all I want to do is kiss you senseless and show you how much I'm in love with you...but I _can't_ because of that thrice-damned rock on your finger," he finishes at last, his eyes blazing with frustration.

I sit silently, taking it all in. My veins are alternating between burning and cooling, pulsing in relief. With each rapid heartbeat (which has yet to slow), another question pops into my mind, and I'm torn which to ask first, or whether to ask anything at all. I now appreciate the anguish I had seen in his eyes, for I feel its brother sinking its claws into my mind. These past few days had been so wonderful that I had conveniently put out of mind that I am, by law, a married woman. The full consequences of our actions begin to occur to me, and I curse my recklessness. If he is caught in unsupervised company with me, things would not go well for him or me. Not well at all. At the very least, Hieronymous would have him hanged.

This is his choice. I won't endanger him unnecessarily. "Do you..," I begin, hating myself for pointing him to gallows, for I already knew his answer deep down, "do you want to be with me, despite the risks, despite the fact that we both know this will not end well?"

"Yes," he answers firmly, without the slightest hesitation.

I take strength from the resolved set of his jaw and the determined glint in his eyes. In that moment, I feel my anxiety slipping away. He and I would finally be together. Did anything else really matter anymore? I had been selfless for so many people for so long, that now I felt I deserved to be a little selfish.

"Then be with me," I say softly, but firmly.

Cautiously, he leans forward from the tree, lifting his left hand to my face. He touches my jaw almost timidly, as if afraid he will be struck down on the spot for doing so. His other hand cups behind my ear, his thumb stroking the skin, soft and sighing as the wind. I feel that maybe I should close my eyes, but his calloused caress leaves me enchanted, frozen; a winter's freeze, burning sharply through my limbs even as it numbs me. His ocean eyes capture me further, quietly studying me, gazing as though taking in the world for the first time.

I stand at the edge of a cliff over the ocean, knowing full well the danger that could come. Still, I must do something to ease the fire racing across my skin from the wake of his touch. Whether this will save me or be the end of me, I dive and he, the sea, rises to meet me. I shut my eyes, and for a moment it's easy to imagine that we are free.

Our embrace grows stronger with every second; as my hands wrap around his shoulders, his hand drifts to my hair, and he weaves his fingers through the knots still there from the night's hard riding. Breathing becomes something whimsical and unnecessary as we focus our energy on acquainting our mouths once more, a desperate and bittersweet reunion.

When we finally do part, black specks of dizziness dance before my eyes; probably mostly from lack of air, but I _can_ think of a few other sources, one of which is stroking my back in lazy circles. Once we've regained our breath, he makes good on his promise from earlier, our lips colliding blissfully again and again.

A little sigh of contentment escapes me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. Water leaks from my closed eyes, and I can almost feel him twitch up in panic.

"What...what are you doing that for?" he asks, somewhat panicked.

I laugh shakily at his reaction, "I have no idea. I think that my mind can't comprehend how happy I am right now, so it's become confused."

He laughs along with me, the sound's vibrating rumble reverberating through me, and kisses the top of my head.

"Link," I sigh joyfully, realizing that this is the first time I've allowed myself to even think his name, let alone speak it aloud, since his departure. To do so in his absence would have been painful, would have reminded me all the more that he was gone.

"Hmm?" he prompts, surprising me.

I smile.

"Nothing."


	7. o bstacles

It was with much difficulty (both mentally and physically, as Link kept snatching me up in his arms) that I finally left the forest. Since my destination was known, it was just a simple matter of using my magic to transport me back to Rothester Castle. I closed my eyes to green sunlight and blue eyes and opened them to stone walls and rich tapestries. My chambers.

With a sigh, I sit down upon the fine fabric of the bedspread, already feeling loneliness beginning to seep into my blood. I unfasten Link's pants, slipping them off under my now rather hopeless gown. I fold the material almost absentmindedly, my tired eyes boring a spot into the floor.

My dreamy stupor is broken by the unlatching and creaking of the double doors as a servant girl shuffles inside. She only seems to notice me once her eyes follow the muddy footprint trail leading to my bed. Her eyes widen in shock and mortification, and she quickly casts them down. Apparently my disappearance had been noted this morning.

Although she could not speak, her body trembles in terror. By entering a royal chamber without knocking, she had committed a severe offense (according to the king, anyway). She had obviously not expected to find me here, especially since I hadn't returned by traditional means, and now feared some terrible punishment.

"No harm was done," I say softly, hoping my gentle tone will reassure the shaking girl. I then continue with a much-needed request. "Would you prepare my bath?"

Still stunned, it seems, it took the girl a moment to comprehend my words, and then she quickly scurried off, bowing and scraping as she went.

I stand from my spot on the bed, gathering things together for my bath. First, though, I stow the riding pants in my secret drawer compartment. Sure, they smell a bit rank, but I dare not have them washed with my other laundry.

* * *

After such a long, dirty horse ride and a day spent in the forest, a warm, cleansing bath is nigh on heaven. A sigh of pleasure slips between my lips as I sink deeper into the water, feeling it gently lap up to my chin. My hands are slowly but surely plucking the last few bits of forest from my hair, which is floating over my shoulder.

I lift my hand, noticing that my fingers are beginning to pucker. The water, while still warm, has dropped in temperature a fair bit. I am not only milking this time for the extra cleanliness, but also because I am dreading facing the king. By the time I finish here, it will be dinnertime, and I will have no escape from him. Still, I suppose I should just get on with the whole nasty business. So, after a few more minutes of soaking (having finally, thoroughly cleaned my hair), I reluctantly step from the basin and begin preparing myself for dinner.

* * *

I can hear chatter wafting up the stairs from the dining hall, and I immediately recognize the booming voice of my father. After Rothester and Hyrule's joining, my father took up the position of diplomat, as two kings couldn't rule the same country. Rather than being put off by this lowering of rank, he heartily enjoyed it, saying that he much preferred traveling to sitting in a musty throne. He and Impa, who served as his bodyguard now, must have returned from their latest journey.

The quiet rustling of my violet gown is largely unnoticed as I slip into the room, surreptitiously taking my place at the table. A certain gray-eyed ruler takes notice immediately, however, and I can see the wordless fury thundering in those stormy skies. His jaw clenches tightly, and he rips his eyes violently from mine, refusing to even acknowledge me any longer.

"Zelda!" My father finally exclaims, taking evident delight in my appearance. "I had been told you were gone for the day, and I could scarcely wait for your return! We had hoped you would join us for dinner, and had the cooks prepare you a plate!" His brow furrows after he says this, though, and he ponders aloud, "Although, I've yet to hear word of your return, actually."

As the others had begun eating, not expecting to wait for me, I too began to eat. I start sawing at the boar meat on my plate, quietly responding, "Merely a..._precaution_...father," I say, in a mocking tone that only my husband will know, "After all, tongueless servants tell no secrets," I jab into the meat with more force than necessary. The muting of the servants has always incensed me, and my run in with the servant girl today only intensified that anger.

The gray-eyed king gives a dark, humorless chuckle, and shoots back in a smooth, careful tone, "Well, then, surely they shall prove to be more of a benefit to you than me. You are no stranger to secrets, are you, _darling_?" The endearment is a knife hidden beneath the sleeve, masked except from those who know of it, luring the casual observer into believing that this banter is somehow civil, and not at all dangerous.

Impa, however, watches our conversation closely from then on, and I know she is suspicious. In all honesty, I do not believe the king and I have argued so viciously with each other, no matter how many layers of courtesy the insults are swathed in, in front of an audience as perceptive as my wise nursemaid.

So it comes as no surprise when I am preparing for bed in my chambers that I hear her request, "Your Majesty? May I enter?"

"Of course, Impa," I say, sighing at the title. I wonder, sometimes, what life would be like if I were just "Zelda."

My old guardian and friend steps in, shutting the door firmly behind her. Her new role as my father's bodyguard prevents us from spending time with each other as much as we would like, but I like to believe that our friendship still runs as strongly as ever. It pains me to recognize that, since the last time I have seen her, she has grown older. As a child, Impa had always seemed invincible, immortal to me. Now, those illusions have been quietly laid to rest, and I realize that someday even she will be taken from me.

I sit down on the soft bed (which has new sheets; I assume I accidentally muddied the others earlier) and Impa joins me.

"So," she begins, meeting my eyes squarely, "what have you kept from him that makes him so frustrated with you?"

Even though I am confessing my adultery, my selfish sin, I cannot help but smile as I say, "Link came back."

Impa closes her eyes tiredly and sighs, "That is what I was fearing." Her eyes meet mine again, and while they are compassionate, there is a sternness in them. "Zelda...I understand that Hieronymous is not your ideal husband, but...he _was_ your choice. You vowed to him, before an entire kingdom, that you would always be his. I do not blame him for his anger."

"I am afraid he was mistaken, then. I spoke those words to _him_ with my weak, mortal tongue, but I sang them to Link with everything else within me. I am Link's. Always. No amount of pomp and circumstance can overpower that," I say softly, casting my eyes away from the disappointment flickering in Impa's own.

"Was that where you were today? With him?"

"Yes."

"Hieronymous was seething when he discovered you were missing."

"So I had figured."

Impa sighs, a hint of frustration seeping into the exhalation. "You do realize how this will end? You cannot keep doing this forever. Eventually, maybe even within the next week, they will find Link, and they will hang him." Her eyes lock me in stare, forcing the consequences into my barely-conscious mind.

Hearing the words "hang" and "Link" strung into the same sentence begins coiling a thread of worry under my heart. Of course I had thought of the consequences, and even discussed them with Link. Under Impa's wise voice, however, the words took on a new meaning, and an even greater danger.

"I know," I finally say, struggling not to whisper and betray any weakness, "and Link realizes it as well as I. And," I cut in quickly, wanting to speak once more before Impa began, "I know that I am being disgustingly selfish. I've grown tired of being selfless."

"You have always known that duty comes before everything, even yourself. You have always followed this unwritten doctrine religiously, always listening to your Goddesses before all others," Impa says, her eyebrows tilting upward in mild surprise.

"Duty died for me long ago, and it is only by Link's return that I have lain it to rest," I say after a moment, choosing my words carefully. "If the Goddesses find my actions abhorrent, then they are free to strike me down," I finish defiantly.

"I could end this," Impa muses dangerously. "I could tell His Majesty right now what has been taking place and track Link down. But I will not," she continues softly, seeing my expression of horror and betrayal, "because I know that you will be wise enough to settle this matter yourself."

With that statement, she rises from the bed, displaying a Sheikah's deadly grace with even that small movement. She halts by the doorway and turns halfway to me, speaking, "Sleep well, Your Majesty."

* * *

Despite Impa's parting wish, my dreams are troubled and strange, causing me to toss and wake throughout the night. The night seems to be never ending, a constant cycle of waking, slipping into terrible dreams, and tossing and sweating. In the morning, I cannot remember any of these convoluted visions, but am left with an uneasy impression. My unease is amplified by a foul taste lingering on my lips and the reluctance of my body to rise. My throat feels raw, as if from screaming far too much. I attempt to sit up only to find that my limbs are too weak. I lay under the hot sheets and attempt to fight down my panic.

I hear a light "thump" from the direction of my window, and I turn my head quickly that way, praying for Link. Instead I find Impa poised on the sill, her normally calm features radiating fury.

"Impa," I begin hesitantly, my voice cracking as I speak, "what is–"

"Quiet, child," she says, not unkindly, but sternly. She does not meet my eyes as she slips into the room, squeezing herself under my bed. Behind the bedskirt that reaches the floor, she is completely hidden.

I lay there, even more bewildered, and try to keep myself calm.

A few moments later, my door opens softly and a servant girl bearing a steaming tray of food enters. She looks at me worriedly as she approaches, and her concern startles me.

Without warning, Impa's leg lashes out from under the bed, toppling both girl and tray to the ornate carpet. The girl, having hit her head on the bedpost, is unconscious. Impa crawls from under the bed and inspects the fallen tray, sniffing each utensil and glass. Her hands uncork a vial that had been next to the food; as she sniffs the liquid inside, her nose wrinkles disgustedly and she mutters, "How _dare _he..."

"Impa, what...?" I try again, and I suddenly notice how tired and delirious I feel.

"The damn, power-hungry bastard's trying to start a war, that's what," she hisses darkly, pouring out the vial's contents to the floor. She stands up and rushes over to me, tossing off my covers. "Can you move?" she asks, sparing a glance backwards to the door.

I shake my head mutely after another futile attempt to lift my legs.

Brusquely, she picks me up, one arm under my knees and the other supporting my back. Seeing my confused expression, she promises, "I shall explain once we reach safety." Without another word, I feel Sheikah transportation magic flowing around us, and I feel comforted enough to drift into a light sleep.


	8. f light

When I wake up this time, I feel stronger and more at ease. I can sit up, and my legs begin to move again without too much trouble. My bleary eyes, thick with sleep, squint as I adjust to the quiet sunlight filtering through. It takes me a moment to comprehend that I am no longer in the castle. Canvas walls of a tent surround me, and I can hear muffled sounds creeping through the flap. Carefully, not wanting to push my body's limits, I stand up. Satisfied that I haven't fainted or anything of that nature, I leave the tent, seeking out Impa.

The sight that greets me outside the tent shocks me. There are perhaps hundreds of other tents scattered about, and an equal number of people quietly milling about. But what throws me is that I _know_ many of them; indeed, I've seen several of them in Rothester.

Apparently, I am noticed as well. People begin to stop in their tracks, openly staring at me in awe, or murmuring quietly to their neighbor. I take advantage of this attention and ask, "Can anyone direct me to Impa?" A couple near me hesitates, glancing at each other for confirmation. After a moment of whispered deliberation, the man points to the far side of the camp, "We believe she is there, Your Majesty. The tent in between those two evergreens."

I nod in thanks and head that way.

I wrap my arms around myself, only now noticing the crisp, chill air. Looking off to the side of the camp, I realize just why the temperature seems to have dropped so severely. Miles of tree and town stretch underneath my gaze, each tree and house no bigger than my thumbnail, every color blurred from the height. For a moment, I stand stunned, watching a low cloud slowly drift past. As I head toward Impa's tent, I smile; I've always loved mountains.

I reach Impa's tent, somewhat secluded from the others, and slowly enter, peeling the front flap aside. Impa is, surprisingly, asleep. I take a moment and wonder that I've never seen my indestructible warrior-Sheikah-guardian sleep before, never seen the look of sleep-induced peace on her face. I decide to leave her to her rest, to softly tiptoe out, but her voice catches me, "Zelda. Come back in, please."

I oblige, and she motions me to sit down on a crate across from the bed. She rises from her bed (more of a pallet, actually) and quickly straightens the sheets. She pauses and takes in my form. "Here. You must not get sick." She hands one of her blankets to me, and I drape its warm threads around me.

"Now," she begins brusquely, always straight to the point, "I am quite sure you are confused about many things, one of which being why I abducted you. I know you have questions, but allow me to explain the entire situation first."

I nod and smile inwardly. Impa, always the teacher.

"First, I am sure you are aware of the political situation of Rothester and Mankh, the enmity and constant rivalry between the two. Did you also know that dear Hieronymous has been plotting to take Mankh for several years?"

I nod.

"Zelda, I am afraid that you played right into his hands with your escapades with Link. Allow me to explain," she quickly interjects, as an expression of confusion and disgust crosses my features. "Whatever faults he may have, Hieronymous is a very astute man, very observant. He knew that by forbidding you to leave the castle, you would be even more determined to escape. He used your escape and the people's love of you to his advantage. When you left, he told the people that you had been kidnapped by Mankh magickers, that they had used one of our own horses to steal you away. Of course the people were furious at this outrage from Mankh and cried for war.

Your father, away on a mission to Mankh, had not heard such declarations, and was reassured by Hieronymous that you would return that night. He was kept oblivious, the peaceful diplomat. Your father, too, played his part. He did not know that the sealed "letter of peace" he carried and delivered to Mankh's King was actually a declaration of war from Rothester. A bold move by Hieronymous, since he could not predict exactly what you would do, but everything fell into place for him.

The night you returned, Hieronymous poisoned you. It is made from a special herb that induces a fever-like state as long as it is administered. He announced to Rothester that you had been successfully rescued, and this announcement was confirmed by the servants who had seen you around the castle. Workers around the castle asked the servants, and although they could not speak, they nodded their heads that you had disappeared and returned the next day. This word reached the people, and so forth. They also believed that Mankh had put a wicked spell on you, a sickness that made you suffer. This was the story Hieronymous used the poison to explain. Every day, he would instruct a servant to administer a vial of liquid to you, telling them it was supposed to alleviate the pain. Poor things did not know any better, and kept poisoning you. It was absurd, but everyone believed his story. I do not think they would have if it had not involved your safety. He rallied them, telling them that we would storm Mankh and demand a cure for our queen.

I began to grow suspicious when I realized how perfectly your tragic abduction fit in with his plans of conquest, and I was not the only one. I gathered a group of people who were opposed to the war with Mankh, and we scouted the city for others. Soon, we had quite a large following, and we needed to act. Hieronymous had already declared war, and every man was required to fight. Before, most men would have resented this and been more of a burden than an asset, but now their ire was up, and they were ready for battle. That is, except for those who I had come to know. We decided to flee. Quickly we gathered supplies, food, anything we might need on the mountain. When it was time, we fled. It was a terrible strain, and it nearly killed me, but I successfully transported them all out of the city, group after group. From there, we climbed the mountain, set up camp.

As soon as I had recovered enough, I came back for you, and here we are. I had an inkling that you were being induced into sickness somehow, but I had no idea..." she trailed off, disgusted. "Zelda, that poison would have eventually killed you, and I think Hieronymous knew it. Your death would have fueled this war into unquestionable victory."

I sat there, dumbstruck, furious, too many emotions to name. Finally, I ask, "What about your mass disappearance? Did he not notice a third of his population missing?"

Impa smiled. "Zelda, have I not always taught you to cover your tracks? Yes, he knows we are gone, but has no idea where to. We refuse to take part in this meaningless war. Although," she adds, regretfully, "I suppose he has twisted our escape into Mankh abducting our people, or some other nonsense. Those left are so mad with blood lust that they will believe anything that comes from his foul mouth."

"Impa," I begin, dreading a war-torn Rothester, "I think I should go back and speak to the people. Surely if they saw me alive and well, they would realize Hieronymous has been lying to them and is not to be trusted."

Impa shakes her head, though, and says sharply, "Absolutely not. I forbid it." She continues, somewhat regretfully, "There is no hope for those who are left, anyway. Hieronymous, it would seem, is very capable of dark magic. He…somehow…used the rage and bloodlust of those left behind and transformed the people into monsters. They are nothing close to Hylians and Rothesterians anymore. They have become strange, warlike creatures, I regret to say. I do not even know if they ever remember being human."

I sit, stunned, and absorb this new information. My people, those thousands of citizens under my care, were no more. They were of _his_ design now.

As sorrowed as I am for my lost people, another question pops into my mind immediately, "What about Father? Is he here, or is he left in the city? Has he become one of those monsters?"

I immediately dread her response, for her eyes grow gloomy. "Zelda...Hieronymous had your father executed. As far as the people know, the Mankh magickers cast the sickness over him, too, and he died because his body was "not as young and up to the challenge" as yours. Preposterous, but, again, everyone believed."

I sit, clutching the blanket closer to me in numb grief. I shut my eyes and bite my lip, to try and keep myself from crying. A drop of blood rolls down my chin, and for a moment the pain masks the sadness, but I cannot stand it anymore. I refuse to cage my anguish anymore, and it spills out in a terrible wail, a wounded, animalistic sound.

After a few moments, I manage to choke out, "Why?"

Bitter resentment crosses Impa's face. "He believes Hyrule will soon be back to its normal state, and he did not want any..._contention_...on to who would claim the throne."

Incomprehensible thoughts mill through my mind. Rage burns my throat. Tears turn to ice. I wipe the blood from my lip and stare at the red substance, promising myself that someday this will be _his_ lifeblood staining my fingers.

What was the point of it all, then? I rage silently. What was the point of Link risking his life time and time again to save Hyrule's people? What was the point of my marriage to Hieronymous? What was the point of working to save my people from hunger and poverty? Did we only save them from one dark magic and throw them to another? _What was the point?_ I scream at the Goddesses internally.

"Is there nothing we can do?" I ask despairingly, feeling more hopeless than I ever have before.

Impa shakes her head regretfully and explains, "Zelda...I know this is a lot to absorb at once. I do not know what Hieronymous is, but he is out of our reach right now. The best we can do is bide our time and search for a weakness." She pauses and then continues, "Do not give up hope, Zelda. The Goddesses always have a reason for their actions."

I fight hard to restrain a bitter laugh from breaking through.

After a moment, I stand and leave. "Thank you, Impa. For telling me."

* * *

I stand on a high knoll under the trees, brooding and bitter. I watch the people going about their lives below, cheerful at having escaped an unjust war, terrified that they might get caught. I hate war, and I hate, _loathe_, the man who had instigated this one.

I rest head upon my crossed arms, remembering my father fondly, trying to recall everything I had ever heard him say, everything I had watched him do. I hatefully recalled every time I had ever yelled at him, resented him silently, acted out in anger against him.

So this is what it feels like to have lost the last of your family. As soon as I think this, I realize it is a bit unfair; Impa is family, something between a mother and an older sister, I suppose.

Still, it hurts. So much.

I stare down at the birds dipping and diving above the city, free from care, fighting only hunger and the wind. How glorious it must be to live so freely, to never have to worry of war or famine or plague. No one claims the sky; no one divides it into sections and fights over who has the right to die on each section. Birds can go anywhere as long as they have wings to fly with.

"You are very wise," I whisper to the wheeling shapes riding the wind.

I wonder what it would feel like to escape from such a torn world such as ours, to somehow disappear from a realm of constant conflict. My eyes linger on the camp below, a camp that could one day become a settlement. What if we started anew here, threw away the past and began a new society? No queens. No manipulative, mad beyond belief _kings_. Just people living their lives and trusting in each other.

Link had spoken of something in his tale of Termina...a mayor, I believe. Someone chosen by the people, someone who listens to the people with their interests in heart. Perhaps that would be something we could start with. It would be a shock, but surely these people would be open to the idea.

We have already flown past war, so why not further? We still have the wings to carry us there.

* * *

I stumble back to my tent, weary from grief but clinging to my hope for the future. I peel the flaps open, stepping out from the biting air. Once inside my shelter of canvas, I realize that I am not alone. Wordlessly, I walk to him, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his chest.

"Zelda..." Link murmurs softly, rubbing comforting circles on my back. "I take it Impa told you everything?"

I nod slowly, clutching him closer, taking comfort in his presence, his soothing voice. I do not cry; all my tears have been exhausted from earlier today.

We stand there timelessly. Even though the death of my father left me with a bit of bitterness towards the Goddesses, right now I thank them endlessly for delivering this man, this savior to me.

"Zelda," he whispers, drawing back a little, "come, you must be very tired." I let him lead me to my pallet. I lay down, wrapping a blanket around me as much for comfort as for heat. My eyelids immediately begin to droop, but I notice that Link lays down next to me, taking my hand and wrapping his fingers through mine. Had my mind not been so muddled with oncoming sleep, I think I might have burst into tears from this simple, sweet gesture. I am still awake enough to notice he has no blanket, and I manage to slur, "Are you cold?"

He smiles. "I'm fine. This is nothing compared to Snowpeak."

Reassured, I finally relax. Despite the terrible news and overwhelming sadness that weighs on me, I drift into one of the most peaceful slumbers I have ever known.


	9. Z enith

I rise out of sleep slowly, too warm and happy to truly be worried about waking early. Three months have passed since my feverish arrival here, I realize. Sorrow from the loss of my people and my father stung me for a long while, but I eventually put the grief to rest, knowing what has passed has passed; there will be no travelling through the years this time.

I pull the blanket up to my nose, sighing as my body steadily awakens. The people…the Hieronymous-turned monsters…fight endlessly below, struggling with Mankh and its allies. A desire to aid them, to heal them somehow, once tortured me for days upon days, but I eventually had to let them go. As Impa said, terrible as it is, there is no hope for them now. The only thing I can do for them, for the memory of them, is to continue to live, to rebuild their shattered country here in the hearts of their brothers and sisters.

My eyes flicker open, squinting at the bright light that seeps in through the tent walls. Said walls suddenly part, and a blonde head pokes in. Link chuckles as I blink sleepily at him.

"_Still_ asleep, Zelda?"

I sit up, but pull the blanket close, unwilling to cast aside its warmth just yet. I say sleepily, "Well excuse me if I am not quite crazy enough to wake before dawn," but my sentence is fractured at "dawn" by a rather large and sleep soaked yawn.

"Well are you still "crazy" enough to come with me to that place I told you about?" He grins at me, watching as my sleepy face brightens in remembrance.

"Oh! Of course!" I exclaim as I throw the blanket off, excited, and practically leap from my prone position on the pallet.

He chuckles and ducks out of the tent, throwing over his shoulder, "Epona and I will be waiting."

I hurriedly ready myself for the trip, putting on my warmest clothes in preparation for the cold. Since coming here, I have been provided with far more practical garments. I would be quite the scandal if I had dressed like this in Rothester or Hyrule. I am wearing thick, tough boots, a wool, long-sleeved tunic, and warm trousers. I also slip on woolen gloves and stick my arms through the sleeves of a coat. I quickly brush my hair, pulling the long locks into a braid. Finished, I rush out of the tent hastily, blinking as the bright sun-on-snow pricks my eyes.

I walk over to Link, who is just finishing tacking Epona, it seems. He is dressed similarly, sans coat. (I swear, the man never seems to get cold). He stands up and turns my way, the snow reflecting in his blue eyes. "Ready?" He asks, rummaging in his pockets and putting on his riding gloves.

I nod and carefully mount Epona (with Link's help, I manage to get in the large saddle with some semblance of grace). I scoot up some as Link leaps up behind me with an ease and grace that puts my own attempt to shame. He reaches under my arms and grabs the reins, slipping them behind me and taking them in his hands. "Comfortable?" He asks quietly, his voice tickling my ear. I nod, shifting slightly in the homemade saddle Link had constructed so we both could ride. Without further ado, he lightly kicks his heels against Epona, urging her into a quick walk.

We weave through the camp, eventually coming to the forest edge. Epona, seeming to have come this way before, needs little direction from Link. She moves quickly through the trees and brush, and I wonder again where Link is taking me. I sigh, watching the exhalation form into an icy cloud, and lean back against Link.

The trees begin to thin after awhile, and I see white light filtering heavily through the branches. Epona speeds up from a kick of Link's heels. "Jump ahead!" Link warns me, and it takes a second to sink in.

"What?!" I breathe incredulously, and then my eye catches the fallen tree trunk ahead. Terrified, I turn and wrap my arms in a death grip around Link. I squeeze my eyes shut as we near the obstacle. I feel Epona kick off in a leap, my stomach performs a sickening sinking as we hang in the air for what seems like an age, and then we hit ground again. Epona thunders on as if nothing happened, and I feel Link's chest shaking with laughter. I snap my eyes open to find him watching me amusedly.

"You alright?" he asks through the laughter, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

I release my grip on him and turn around, slightly mortified. I cannot help but grin, though, and soon I find myself laughing along with him. "If that had not been so terrifying, I think it might have been fun," I admit, turning my head to look at him.

He smiles and laughs at my admission. "Terrifying? Zelda, you know I'll never let anything happen to you." It is not a question, for we both know it is unquestionable. Despite the slight jocularity of the moment, I meet his eyes and know he truly means it. I turn and kiss him, the fire of it still burning me through the icy weather.

"I know," I whisper against his lips, turning back around and leaning back against him, realizing that I have never felt safer.

By now we have completely cleared the trees, and a blank snowy expanse stretches before us. The side of the mountain veers down far to our left, and there looks to be an incline up ahead. Sure enough, after a little while we reach a sort of snowy ramp leading further up the mountain. Link slows Epona and brings her to a halt. "Down we go," he says, dismounting Epona and then helping me down. Epona snorts, a cloud of frost forming in front of her, as she waits for Link to hitch her up to a lead.

We slowly move up the incline, Link carefully leading Epona up behind us. We continue along a narrow way, and even though we have not ventured up the mountain very far, I can feel the curve of our path. My boots crunch through the snow, and I am very grateful for their warmth and sturdiness.

Eventually, we come to a stop before a cavern. Link leads Epona inside and beckons for me to follow. The inside is dark and feels halfway between damp and frozen. Link grabs a lantern from one of Epona's saddlebags and lights it, casting a warm glow on the harsh shadows. The cavern stretches up much higher than I had imagined, and glittering, twisting stalactites stretch down from the top.

I catch Link smiling at the wonder crossing my features, and he says, "This isn't even the best part."

We journey further into the ice caves, our footsteps and Epona's clicking hooves echoing up to the vast ceiling. I run my gloved fingers softly along the frozen walls, marveling at the natural beauty of the place. The ice is bathed in flickering red highlights from the lantern in Link's hand, but after a while the glittering prism of color from white light replaces the red. I stare ahead, feeling a slight chill, and catch sight of an opening ahead. Link has stopped and seems to be waiting for me. Curious, I step by him as he beckons me to do so.

Towering, ice-and-snow-covered peaks glint in the winter sunlight, forming a circular rampart around the little valley. Skeleton trees rimed with silver frost are scattered about, practically twinkling with a dream-like quality. A thin layer of snow covers the ground, undisturbed. White light bounces off the ice of a pool at the bottom of the valley partially covered with snow. A strange shape in the shadows under one of the trees catches my attention, and I bend down, brushing the snow away; bright blue and white petals greet my fingers as the snow is flicked off.

"Mountain forget-me-nots," Link, who has appeared silently behind me, explains. He sits down next to me, a small smile forming on his face. "So, what do you think?"

"This place is so…" I stop, thwarted, and laugh. "I cannot even think of words wonderful enough to describe it."

"I often find myself in the same situation," Link says slyly, watching me affectionately.

I blush, but it is hidden by my already-rosy, chilled cheeks. "How did you discover this place, anyway?" I ask, drinking in the sight of it all.

He shrugs. "I was just exploring one day and happened to find it. I thought you'd like to see it."

I shiver convulsively as a layer of cloud covers the sun. Link moves closer to me, instinctively wrapping his warm arms around me. We sit in silence, briefly resting from the trek, watching a frisky Epona dash about. A gentle snowfall begins to empty from the clouds, crystal snowflakes settling on our hair and eyelashes. Link absentmindedly fingers the petals of a forget-me-not, his eyes lost in thought. Smiling, I pluck one of the flowers near my hand, realizing the similarity between the flower's color and Link's eyes. I quietly tuck the blossom into my coat.

"How could you ever think I could forget you?" I ask suddenly, the name of the flower playing into my rhetorical question.

Link turns to look at me, ripping himself out of whatever had been going on in his mind, and flashes a lopsided grin at me. "I was wrong. You're the only one who hasn't." Seeing the look of remorse on my face, for I was the one who had reversed the memory of those seven years, he continues, "And don't you dare look guilty. I much prefer it this way. My only regret is that we couldn't save them from everything. Ganondorf still won in the end."

"Ganondorf did not win," I protest firmly, unwilling to grant that evil creature the slightest semblance of victory. "After all, we are still alive, are we not? Our people still survive. We can rebuild Hyrule as long as Hylians live. It is not a matter of land or buildings, it is a matter of life, of people. I do not think Ganondorf ever truly understood that, what it means to be a nation, so he could not destroy it."

Link just looks at me with something akin to wonder and mutters, "Goddesses, I love you." He leans toward me, and our chapped, iced lips soon grow warm from the kiss. I tangle my gloved fingers in his hair, dislodging several snowflakes in the process. Even considering my several layers of clothing, the simple pressure of his hands on my body leaves a trail of singed nerves, and I pull him closer.

"I love you so much," I gasp out as we briefly part for air, quickly reuniting our lips in a bout of passion. My breath hitches in my throat as his lips leave mine, creating a trail of soft kisses down my jaw and throat. He slowly makes his way back up, capturing my lips once more. Goddesses, how did I ever live without this man? I wonder as the kiss grows deeper.

The world slips away, and I lose myself in Link.


	10. E xecution

The ride home is pleasant (no surprise jumps over logs yet), but I am reluctant to leave our icy paradise. I look back wistfully at the disappearing slopes, wondering how soon we could travel back there. _Although_, I think as a large yawn commandeers my mouth for a good ten seconds, _I will be grateful to return home to a warm bed and a comforting sleep._ From the slack way Link's hands are resting on the reins and a mirrored version of my own yawn, I can tell Link is thinking similar thoughts.

Perhaps it is both of our sleep-soaked minds or the illusion of safety that we have hidden behind in these past months, but neither of us reacts quickly enough when Epona rears violently, a terrified, terrible noise ripping from her throat. We both fall heavily to the ground, her equine screaming ringing through the air as I hear a sickening crunching noise. A shadow hand grabs me by the neck from my prone position and lifts me easily into the air; the other hand wraps around my wrist. A frozen, nauseating pain circles my wrist, and I struggle desperately to breathe against the pressure on my throat. My other wrist soon faces the same treatment, and as I glance down, I notice two rings covering each respective wrist, the purple and black colors moving like sluggish lava.

Our assailant, seeming to have finished with me at the moment, tosses me roughly to the side; my body slams harshly against a tree, and I feel blood seep through my hair. I watch through fuzzy vision as he moves toward Link, who (I can guess from the cracking sound I heard) has broken his leg. He struggles to stand up and draw his sword, favoring the useless appendage, but is ruthlessly punched back down. Link soon receives the same treatment as I: ugly bruise-like rings circling each wrist. Epona attempts to defend her master despite her horror, wildly kicking and biting at the attacker. He, despite the danger, grabs her by the reins and reels in her closer until they are eye-to-eye. She grows still.

"You should have been mine, beauty," he growls at her. Screaming and braying, Epona rips her way out of his grasp, leaving him clutching a torn bridle, and bolts wildly away at a furious pace. He throws the bridle and Link to the ground, giving no care for either.

His shape is familiar, and I dare to ask, "…Hieronymous?"

He laughs, a chilling and mirthless sound, and turns to me. "Not quite, Princess."

I nearly choke on my own revulsion. What stands before me might once have been Hieronymous, but _that_ face is decaying, the flesh slowly dripping off like paint. His evil eyes leer at me cruelly, and I can nearly feel the hate rolling off of him. The face emerging from behind Hieronymous' is that of, despite my quick denial…Ganondorf.

"Thought I was gone, I suppose?" He asks as he steps toward me, "You thought your precious Sacred Realm could cage me?" He stares down at me with contempt. "You believed I was mere flesh and bone, so easily trapped, but I am much more than that." He clenches his fist and turns its back to me, his Triforce glinting with a sickly light. "I _am_ Power. I am a force of this world. You can no more be rid of me than you can be rid of the air you breathe or—" A slicing sound is heard, and the tip of the Link's sword emerges from Ganondorf's chest. He slowly turns his head to find a panting Link still holding on to the hilt. Reaching back, he rips Link off of the hilt and throws him violently to the ground. "Did you not hear me, boy? I am more than flesh now," he thunders as he pulls the blade effortlessly out of his chest, quickly tossing the sword aside. The hole in his chest knits together slowly, impossibly. A cruel grin darkens his features as he holds his hand out, a pulsing ball of electricity forming in his palm. Without warning, he flings the electricity at Link, chuckling as Link yells against the pain vibrating through him.

"Excruciating, isn't it?" He queries sardonically at the writhing figure before him. I lift my hands up, calling the Sheikah magic to my mind while his back is turned. "I am afraid you will find that impossible, Princess," he says to me over his shoulder, startling me. Not knowing his meaning, I release the magic anyway, only to find that it is swallowed into nothing as soon as it flows into the purple-black rings. He laughs at my stunned, horrified expression, and lifts his own hands up. There is suddenly a pressure on my conscious, and I fight the urge to faint. My efforts are useless, though, and soon the forest fades to black.

* * *

Consciousness finally pushes through, and I open my eyes to shadows. The utter darkness of the cell is only broken by a guttering torch throwing orange light on the black. My head feels fuzzy, and I gingerly inspect the now-clotted head injury from before. I hear the heavy clink of metal as I do so, and notice the manacles firmly clamped on each wrist and ankle. Huh. Apparently Ganondorf is under the impression magical restriction is not enough.

"Link?" I call out among the shadows, a faint hope believing he might be hidden here with me. However, I hear no reply, and I know Ganondorf would never be so stupid.

Ganondorf…The mere thought of him brings bile into my throat. How could he possibly have returned? We imprisoned him in the most secure place to ever exist. What had he said about being a…part? No, a _force_ in the world…What had he meant? How could even _that_ spring him from the Sacred Realms? And to think, I had been living with…oh dear Goddesses, am I _married _to him? Had there ever been a Hieronymous, or had he been Ganondorf in disguise the entire time? Surely the Goddesses would not be that cruel. Whoever, or whatever, Hieronymous had been, he no longer exists, I tell myself forcefully. Although, this freedom does not feel as exhilarating as I had always imagined, for I doubt now I will ever be able to exercise it.

The cell door slams open, breaking me out of thought. Automatically, my head turns to the sudden light bursting through the doorway and the dark shadow clomping through. Low, humorless laughter echoes emptily off the walls, chilling me with its familiarity.

"Hello, Princess. I trust you are comfortable. Unfortunately, I do not think I can match the incredible…hospitality…of the prison _you_ placed me in," he drawls cynically, hatred burning off of him. He kicks me viciously, and I hiss in pain as my head strikes the hard stone behind me. He then grabs me roughly by the hair so we are eye-to-eye and growls, "This is what you get for defying me, you idiot girl. Either by slavery or death, Hyrule was _always_ mine. You just happened to choose death for your country. Now, with this war, I will only grow stronger, and soon there shall be nothing I do not rule, including that damned Sheikah woman and her followers," Ganondorf promises maliciously. He pauses and glances at me, sneering. "Quite frankly, the very presence of you makes me ill," he says darkly and forcefully shoves me to the floor; the coincidence of us thinking alike feeds a sort of bitter amusement to my consciousness.

Against the grimy floor, I hear Ganondorf exit, his quick bootsteps fading down the hallway. Once again, I am left alone with the flickering torch, and even its insentient light seems malevolent. Up until now, the whole process left me in a stunned, dreamy state where nothing seemed real. Now, however, the awful reality of the situation strikes me, and horror invades my senses. Ganondorf is alive, and is on some sort of mad conquest of the entire world, the majority of my people are mindless monsters fighting in his name, and the people I thought were safe are probably only days away from capture. How could the Goddesses allow this to happen? Was there not something Link or I could have done to prevent this?

How could I have let this happen?

* * *

It is only by the tightening of my stomach that I know time passes. As I have not died from starvation or dehydration, I know that it cannot have been a terribly long time. I am given plenty of time to wonder whether Ganondorf is having trouble finding time to kill me, or whether he has simply chosen this cell as my executioner. I also wonder constantly about Link, and whether Ganondorf has killed him yet. Part of me prays Link is dead, that Ganondorf is not torturing him. The selfish part of me hopes he is still alive, still breathing and beautiful.

The torch guttered out long ago, leaving me suffocated in silence. There is nothing but the occasional clink of metal as I shift my position on the floor. Time and time again, I try using my magic, some absurd hope leading me to believe if I try long enough, it will work. The purple rings swallow it every time, though, and I begin to realize that maybe there is not a way out. I have felt like this before, when Ganondorf trapped me within in magic diamond in order to lure Link to the castle, but I have lost the hope I felt then. There is no Link to save me now.

Goddesses, I implore you: please do not let my country die. If you will not aid me, release me from this cell, then at least ensure my peoples' safety. Lead them to another land, a land without Ganondorf, protect them from him...strike him down into a pile of smoldering ash…do _something_.

The cold, oppressive silence of the cell is the only sound that greets me.


	11. L ove

The cell door creaks slowly open, breaking me out of sleep, and I sluggishly turn my head away from the light spilling through. _This is it, then_, I think to myself. Ganondorf has returned for his victory. Now that he has the complete Triforce within his grasp there will be no stopping him.

"Your Majesty?" a gruff voice whispers, and I turn toward the door in confusion. A flicker of hope rises within me as I attempt to discern whose shadow is in the doorway, but that hope soon dies. It is not Ganondorf, as I had thought, but one of the moblins in his service; he is probably here to take me to the site of my death. The creature shuffles closer, and he seems nervous. He keeps looking over his shoulder, and I can tell he's trying to listen to whatever sounds might exist outside the cell.

He bends down next to me and fiddles with a keyring, eventually producing a small black key. Wordlessly, he unlocks my feet, gently slipping the cold manacles off my feet. My hands are next, and I rub my sore wrists, grimacing. _Soon_, I think morbidly, _this pain won't matter._

_No, I cannot give up so easily,_ I think, nearly delirious. My people need me. I can still…I can still do something to try and free myself. As the moblin leads me from the cell, I stick out my leg and trip him. I nearly tumble to the ground as well, but I barely recover and begin running down the hall. I do not get very far, though; my leg muscles, weak from disuse, fail me and I fall to the floor.

With a grunt, I hear the moblin pick himself up from the floor and move over to me. He picks me up from the dusty floor, and I sob tearlessly, helplessly. "Your Majesty, don't…worry. I…help," the creature stutters out, seeming to struggle to find speech. The words finally register in my starved mind, and I would have collapsed had he not been holding my arms.

"What?" I whisper, staring searchingly at his face. There is something familiar there, and I feel as if I almost know him…Wait, I _do_ know him, I believe. Hesitantly, I say, "Roland?"

The moblin nods, flashing me what is probably supposed to be a reassuring grin, but the result is actually terrifying. Both great joy and great sadness curdle in my heart as he reaffirms my suspicion. I feel great joy because he is something familiar, and I feel great sadness to see the promising young man I had known turned into one of Ganondorf's creations. He is the reminder of everyone I could not save, and I once again feel remorse.

"You…you are helping me escape?" I dare to ask, praying for him to nod again. He does, the grin still fixed on his face.

Hope runs through me like a living thing, and I hug Roland fiercely in thanks.

A laugh-like rumble runs through him, and he pats my back awkwardly. Oh. Right. It's not every day a former queen hugs her former guard in such an unabashed manner. I pull back and whisper, "Thank you, Roland. Thank you so much, I…" but he holds his finger to his jaws and looks at me meaningfully: we are to be silent. I nod in understanding and turn around, once again letting Roland lead the way. He holds my wrists with one hand in a semblance of capture, and I allow an expression of hopelessness to coat my face.

We pass cell after empty cell, and I begin to realize Ganondorf had tucked me away in the furthest corner of his dungeons. Instead of leading me to the entrance, once we turn a certain corner, Roland starts heading deeper into the dungeon again. Panic tries to take hold of me, but I tell myself to trust him. We eventually come to a dark, secluded hallway; this area is even more remote than _my _cell was. Wordlessly, Roland unlocks the cell and helps me inside.

There, chained against the wall as I was, is Link. I stumble over to him joyously, fervently thanking the Goddesses under my breath.

"Zelda? How…?" he croaks incredulously as I unashamedly hug his chained form.

"Roland is helping us," I explain as the moblin begins unlocking Link's chains.

Link still looks a little confused, but his old expression of brave determination begins to resurface. He leans against me as his right leg is freed, and I belatedly remember him having broken it. I give him as much support as I'm able. Once the last of his bonds falls, he turns to Roland and asks, "How are we getting out of here?"

Roland pauses, taking the task of holding Link up from me, and then says, "Through…back gate. Horses." Without further words, he helps us both out of the cell urgently (after all, my limbs are still weak, and Link can barely move his right leg without gritting his teeth in pain). After a short while of walking, Roland's body stiffens and his nostrils flare. Hastily, he picks up both me and Link up in his massive arms and starts sprinting down the corridors.

"Roland, what is the matter?" I ask, bewildered at his change in attitude.

"He…is back," Roland growls, and neither Link nor I need explanation to who "he" is.

"You mean…he's in the castle?" Link asks Roland. The moblin nods, continuing his mad rush, and dread begins to bloom in my veins.

I turn to Link and say softly, "He will sense us leaving, will he not? We will never make it," I force myself to admit, even though I hate the way it tastes. We were so close to escaping him.

Link nods slowly, and I can see the gears of a plan turning in his hand. Decisively, he turns to Roland and says, "Do you know where he put our things?" Roland thinks for a moment and then grunts in affirmation. "Please take us there, then, instead." Roland pauses and glances at me, seeking my approval first. I nod my confirmation, putting my trust in Link, and we change course.

Before too long, we stand in front of a vault. Roland gently sets us both down and searches his keyring for a moment. He inserts a large silver key into the lock and swings the door open. Link, adrenaline seeming to have returned some of his strength, hobbles into the room and starts searching through piles of random artifacts.

"Link, what are we searching for?" I ask, wanting to help.

"The ocarina," he says simply, rummaging through a crate.

"Of course!" I whisper to myself and immediately begin searching through a different pile. Outside, Roland loyally guards us and keeps watch. I can hear him nervously shuffling from time to time. Finally, my fingers close around the familiar blue instrument, and I turn to Link, who is shoving something in his pocket. "I found it! Hold on one moment," I add as I hand the ocarina to Link and head to the doorway. "Roland," I begin, having to hold back tears as he bends down on one knee in a bow.

"Pleasure serving…Majesty," his voice rumbles, and there is a finality in his tone that I hate hearing.

"You will not come with us?" I ask, already knowing his answer. He shakes his head solemnly and then, with a moblin grin, clasps his fist to his heart. Without further ado, he ushers us out of the vault, locking it behind us, and marches down the corridor.

Link, ocarina in hand, beckons for me to come closer. I wrap my arms tightly around him as his weakened fingers recall old notes. I close my eyes. As the last tones of the Serenade of Water float past iron bars and guttering torches, a warm blue light envelops us and carries us from the castle.

* * *

I open my eyes and see Lake Hylia for the first time in many, many years. It is not the cheerful place of my youth, though, as all life has long since left. The cool water is still, stagnant, and I imagine poison still lurks thickly under the surface. Long gone are the familiar cries of the keese and tektites; there is no splashing in the water to hint at fish. Winter lasts longer on the mountains than here, I suppose, for there is no snow on the ground. Had they been able to, I'm sure bright flowers would be springing up all around the lake, but they, too, are choked with poison. The noonday sun shines starkly down, illuminating the lake with a sickly light.

I cannot take it. I turn away from the sight and head toward the large tree in the center of the island. I sit down gratefully against the rough, dead bark, and Link soon joins me. He looks at me worriedly, and I hate myself for burdening him further. After a moment, his eyes light up with an idea and he brings the ocarina to his lips once again. A sweet, slightly sad melody emerges from the instrument, and it somehow calms my spirit. I feel the torment of my failure and the loss of my friend slip away for the moment, and I look at him in wonder. "What is that song?"

He smiles, lowers the ocarina, and answers, "The Song of Healing. I learned it in Termina."

"Thank you," I say with a smile, taking his hand in mine. I lean against his shoulder, the song having relaxed me, and glance at our intertwined hands. Suddenly, I sit back up, my heart thudding. I pull my other wrist up to my eyes, daring to believe what I am seeing is real: the black and purple ring of magic has disappeared! "Link," I say urgently, eagerly, "take your gloves off!"

I can tell he's puzzled, but he removes them anyway. Realization dawns on his features as he stares at his own unblemished wrists. He glances at me in wonder and then grins. "The Song, Zelda! Remember, it can heal the effects of dark magic!" He bends his leg experimentally and finds that it, too, has been healed.

"We can save them, Link!" I say excitedly, grasping his hands in mine, "I can transport us to the mountain and, somehow, we can…we can save them!"

Then Link cautiously says, "But what of Ganondorf? Surely, he will soon discover our absence, and then…he'll track us down."

I had been given ample time to think in the cell, and after a moment I share one of my thoughts with Link. "He's afraid of us, Link," I divulge, "and we can use that against him."

"He is afraid of us?" He asks incredulously, hopefully.

I nod eagerly and explain, "We were chosen by the Goddesses, and a part of him is afraid to wrest that power from the deities. Why do you think he left us there so long in the dungeon and bound us so securely? He wanted to weaken us, to make absolutely sure we couldn't resist him," I pause, and he seems to accept it; I continue, "He is also afraid of our combined power. That is why he separated us so much down in the dungeon. He may not show it, but I can tell. He hates us just as much as he fears us."

Link thinks for a moment, and a look of hardened resolve crosses his features, "Then we can defeat him, Zelda. We let our guard down on the mountain, but I know we can destroy him now. At least…for a time," he adds darkly, muttering under his breath, and I wonder briefly at his meaning.

I nod slowly, my own resolve strengthening at the courage in his eyes. "So," I begin, feeling more determined with each breath, "Next stop: Temple of Time and the Master Sword?" I ask, and Link nods. "And light arrows," I add, suddenly remembering, "I left a few within the Temple years ago as a precaution." Try as I might, though, I cannot forget the image of the hole in Ganondorf's stomach healing effortlessly, and I wonder just how much of a chance we have. Despair does no good, I tell myself, so I stubbornly cling to hope.

"But first," Link says gently, standing up and helping me up as well, "We need to recover our strength. We do not have a great amount of time, but I think we have plenty enough to find something to eat. We should also try to walk and strengthen ourselves."

Occasionally helping each other along, we walk slowly but steadily across both bridges. We have to be careful, as time and lack of maintenance have allowed the bridges to fall into disrepair. Eventually, we reach the old house of the lakeside scientist. The door has fallen off its hinges, and as we step inside, I notice the house looks even a worse mess than it usually would have.

After quite some time of rummaging through cabinets and drawers, Link miraculously finds half a loaf of rock-hard bread. I find a flask with a small bit of clean water left in it, and we partake in our desperately-needed meal.

"Do you remember, back after we first defeated Ganondorf, how we kept our strength intact?" Link asks me after we finish eating, a tender smile on his face. He stands up suddenly, brushing crumbs off his hands, and offers his hand to me. "Dance with me, Zelda."

And so we dance among the ruin of our country, our love and our hope for the future of Hyrule giving us strength; our feet move, slowly regaining their former vigor, as Link hums the song he had written for me so very long ago.

Outside, the sky breaks open, and rain drums quietly on the roof.


	12. D eath

White light dissipates slowly, and I open my eyes.

Despite the people's exodus from the city and the abandonment of the Temple, it looks just the same as we left it. The kaleidoscopic, stained-glass windows have remained undamaged and sparkle dimly. Not a stone is out of place or weathered. In fact, it seems even dust has failed to coat the floors of the Temple of Time.

I suppose the Goddesses haven't quite forgotten us; or maybe they, too, find themselves caught within past glories.

Link curses under his breath, and I turn to him, startled. "The Stones, Zelda. I forgot…since you reversed time…" he trails off, throwing his hands up helplessly.

I place a calming arm on Link's own and send him a reassuring smile. "You don't think I would leave Hyrule without them?" I say reassuringly, my mouth quirking up into a smile. I clasp both hands in front of me and dip my head low, closing my eyes. I slip into a state of deep thought, something nearing a trance. Slowly, I lift my fingers out in front of me. There is a flickering on my eyelids, a pulsing force of magic leading me. My hands trace a cryptic pattern in the air, flitting with a life of their own.

When my eyes snap open, I hold the three Stones in my hand.

Link stares at me, astounded, and asks, "How did you…? Where were they?"

I struggle to find the right words to describe it. "Calling it a place outside of time would be the best way to explain, I suppose." Cradling the three Stones protectively, I walk toward the altar. Carefully, I place each Stone in its respective spot. When all three are in place, they briefly shine as one, and the Triforce above the Doors glows similarly.

I turn around as I hear Link make his way toward the altar. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wonder if, had the circumstances been different, I would have met Link here for an entirely different reason. Without further pause, Link lifts the Ocarina to his mouth, the cool tones of my lullaby resound throughout the Temple.

As the song finishes, it rings off every wall and then, suddenly, becomes sharply silent. My hand tingles as the Triforce above the Doors of Time burns brightly, and the Doors grate open. Wordlessly, I grab Link's hand, and we walk up the steps and through the Doors.

A single shaft of light illuminates the Master Sword (and I wonder, for a moment, where the light comes from; wasn't it raining outside?), surrounding the legendary blade with a triumphant air. No other adornment decorates the chamber, but the room feels far from empty; the mere presence of the blade encompasses every inch of space.

Link hesitates to step further into the room. I catch his eye and squeeze his hand more tightly. "I've made a lot of mistakes, Link," I say softly, "and you can never imagine how remorseful I am for dragging you into it."

"Zelda, everything you have ever done was for the people of Hyrule, and they know that as well as I," Link protests firmly.

I laugh bitterly. "A lot of good it did them, right? First I open the way to the Sacred Realm for the King of Evil, then I go and _marry_ him and toss my people into his hands!" I yell, and I try to hold back frustrated tears.

"Zelda—"

"And worst of all," I continue to rant, "I drag you into it and force you to clean up my messes while I—" get interrupted as Link kisses me, effectively shutting me up.

After a moment, he pulls back and stares me straight in the eyes. "Stop it," he orders. "A dead queen can't serve her country, Zelda, and surely you know that. You are the best thing for Hyrule right now, and I won't have you getting killed because you feel some moral obligation to make up for every unpredictable mishap. I know you would love nothing more than to stab dear old Ganondorf in the heart yourself, but we can't risk that. That's why I "clean up your messes" and do it willingly," Link finishes fiercely. His mouth quirks up into a sly smile, and he adds, "Well, I guess it's also because I love you, Goddesses help me."

I let out a shaky laugh and hug him. "I love you, too," I mumble against his chest. "But I won't have _you_ getting killed either, understand?"

I can almost feel him smile. "Trust me, I'm not going anywhere." Gently, he leans back and gestures toward the Master Sword. "Now, I believe we have a King of Evil to kill."

We climb the steps together, but I let go of Link's hand as we reach the blade. With both hands, he grabs the hilt firmly and slides the blade out easily. He takes a moment to study the blade, watching as light skitters down the tempered metal, and then lowers it. He hesitates, searching for a sheath, and then realizes he has none. With a shrug, he holds it at his side.

Wordlessly, I walk to the other side of the steps and bend down, retrieving the quiver of Light Arrows that had lain within the sword's shadow. My old bow is also here, the string coiled neatly beside it. I deftly string my bow as Link makes a few practice swings with the Master Sword. I test the taut string and, satisfied, turn to him.

I open my mouth to speak, but I'm briefly struck speechless. "Link," I say, pointing, "Isn't that…?"

Link whirls around. After a moment, he says, "Navi?"

The little fairy chimes happily, "Hello! It is good to see you again, Link!"

Link stares for a moment, a stunned look on his face. "I searched for you after you left, but I could never find you. Where did you go?" he asks eagerly, a trace of sadness in his voice.

Navi flutters her wings, hesitant, and then says, "I'm afraid we don't have time for that, Link. Ganondorf scours the land for you both as we speak. And," she adds, glancing at the Master Sword and my bow, "I'm afraid physical force alone will not stop him." My heart sinks as she says this. However, I gain hope as she continues with, "We must make our way to Hyrule Castle immediately. There is a magic within the Castle that can stop him." Seeing our immobile stances, she flutters agitatedly, "Hurry!"

Obediently, Link and I sprint out of the chamber with Navi bobbing steadily in front of us. Our strides are shaky, and our unchained legs are rebelling against their sudden use. The adrenaline and importance of our running gives new life to our muscles, though, and we find the strength to move on. As we dash through the center of Castle Town, I can't help but notice the disrepair of the place. The whole atmosphere is darker, too, because of the layer of water covering everything. Our feet slosh through deep, muddy puddles as the sky releases a steady downpour, and I nearly slip several times.

By the time we reach the rusted castle gate, Link and I are completely soaked. We stop for a moment under the gate to take a brief respite. Navi flutters nervously above our heads, and eventually urges us on with a, "Come on! Let's go!"

With a glance toward Link, I let him take the lead on this last leg of our journey. The drawbridge, after all, is still tightly secured.

As we run alongside the castle, I am too tired to prevent a wave of nostalgia from overtaking my mind. I think upon how many days I spent within those secure walls, hating my enclosure and praying for a breath of freedom. I suppose I have my freedom now, but I would do anything to take back that prayer. I would spend the rest of my life under lock and chain if I could breathe life into Hyrule once more.

Link stops after a short run and wordlessly gestures for my bow. I give it to him, and he tosses both bow and Master Sword onto the ledge above. With some difficulty, we climb the stone wall, carefully using the slick vines covering it as a means up. I retrieve my bow and follow Link, who has already picked up the Master Sword and walked a bit ahead. Without hesitation, Link dives into the swollen moat, and I follow suit. We are eventually swept to the kitchen's back door, and as we stand on the stone surrounding the moat, we find ourselves ankle-deep in water. I glance at the sky curiously.

A rattling noise reaches my ears, and I turn to see Link wrestling with the handle of the kitchen door. Navi is buzzing inquisitively around the door. The metal door's rusted hinges give way after a moment, and the door collapses inward with a deafening clang. Link walks in carefully, glances around, and then beckons me inside.

Instinctively, I head down the hallway leading toward the Great Hall. However, our way is blocked by rubble. I stall for just a moment at the fallen stones, and the reality of where I am sinks in: this is my _home_, and it's reduced to wreckage now. Shoving my sentimentality away, I change course and head to the guards' old barracks. The door has been left ajar, so Link and I walk through unhindered. We walk through rows and rows of empty, uniform beds until we reach a metal door. I test the knob, find it unlocked, and pull the door open. Water spills inside the barracks as we exit.

Link smiles as we step onto the soggy grass. "Now _this_ is familiar," he says. Gesturing with the Master Sword, he points to an overflowing water drain in the wall. "That's how I used to get in when I was younger."

I shake my head, laughing, as I slosh through the first part of the courtyard. "You infuriated the guards for so long. I can't believe how long it took for them to catch you. Shameful on our part, really."

"Well, I _am_ the Hero of Time," Link says jokingly as he catches up to me, "What good would I be if I can't slip past a few guards?"

Holding on to each other for support, we wade our way through the flooded courtyard. Eventually, we come to my old garden, and waves are lapping gently at the high, circular walls. As we near the window on the far side, Link gently stops me and turns me to face him.

Navi, noticing our lapse, trills, "Hurry! We haven't much time!"

Link glances at his friend and says, "Please, I just need a moment."

Navi flutters her wings wetly, but says nothing. She flies through the window.

Link blinks away raindrops as he stares around at the garden, and a little smile creeps onto his face. "This is where we first met, where it all started." _And now this is where it will end_, he says without speaking, and it terrifies me.

I pull him close, taking the time to memorize the feel of his arms around me, the feel of his heart pulsing against me, and praying to the Goddesses this won't be the last time I feel either. Link murmurs something, and a flash of green light infiltrates my eyelids. Without opening my eyes, I ask, "What was that?"

"Insurance that, after all this is over, I _will_ come back to you," he promises, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

I trace his jawline, rough with stubble from our time of imprisonment, and pull him toward me.

Despite his words, I can't help but feel this will be the last time I will ever kiss him, so I put every ounce of love into that one action that I possibly can, and he responds in kind. I honestly do not know if I am shivering from the cold of the rain or because I am frightened from the uncertainty of our future.

A clap of thunder surprises us both, and we jolt apart. With one last, lingering look, I turn away from Link and head purposefully to the window. I clamber through the stone opening, and Link follows close behind.

We stand in the Great Hall now, and I can see Navi hovering purposefully a little distance away. Her light shines on the statue of the Hero, and I notice Link glance at the statue in a puzzled manner.

A little embarrassed, I explain, "After you left, I thought you at least deserved some recognition, so I…I commissioned a statue. It was supposed to represent the fighting spirit of our army, and it just so happened to end up looking like you. I'm afraid I could only guide the sculptors so much, so it's not an exact likeness, but…" I trail off, and notice how Link's expression fluctuates between amusement, flattery, and embarrassment.

"Hey!" Navi calls, and my eyes snap toward her. "We have to hurry!" She flutters around the head of the statue and explains, "Under this statue is a secret chamber, as you well know, Zelda." I nod understandingly; I _do_ know, but how did Navi? "Placing the Master Sword in the pedestal down there will completely stop time in Hyrule Castle," Navi explains further, and a chill runs down my spine.

"Completely?" I emphasize, stunned. I'd known the chamber and pedestal held great significance, but I never knew the complete extent of the latent power there. I'd always just been told to only to use the magic there as a final, desperate resort in case of attack.

If fairies could nod, I imagine Navi would be doing so. "Yes. Everything within Hyrule Castle will freeze except for what remains in the chamber. Ganondorf and his army are on their way here as we speak. One of you needs to distract him while the other places the Master Sword in the pedestal."

Link and I look at each other. Wordlessly, Link presses the Master Sword into my hand and takes my bow from my limp grasp. The meaning of his actions finally sink in, and I shake my head silently. Suddenly, a cold hand grips my heart and I turn to Navi. "Everything…and everyone…inside the castle and not in the chamber will be frozen?" I ask.

"Yes," she says, turning meaningfully to Link, "everyone."

"Why must…Why can't we both be in the chamber?" I ask, anguished.

"The freeze is not instantaneous. Ganondorf needs to be distracted from what is going on until it is too late for him to escape," Navi explains quietly.

"Remember what I said, Zelda," Link says reassuringly, gently removing the quiver from my back; his touch lingers for just a moment.

He said so many things, and I try desperately to remember them all as I catch his eyes one last time. A sudden rumbling disrupts my thoughts, and all three of us glance at each other with panic.

Link pulls a Light Arrow from the quiver and dashes a little way ahead, yelling, "Go, Zelda! Get down there!"

Navi flutters sadly by Link and says, "I'm afraid I can't fight with you again, Link. The power of Ganondorf's dark magic keeps me from helping you. I am sorry." He nods in understanding, tightening his grip on the bow, and Navi flies back to me. She circles the statue three times, and the base of the Hero grates open, revealing a hidden staircase. "Come, Zelda," she instructs, fluttering down into the dark.

I rush down the staircase, and the statue slowly covers the entrance. Up above, I can hear the first hoofbeats and yells of battle, and then all is silent, cut off by stone.

As I rush down the stairs and into the circle of the suits of armor, I can only think of Link, still weakened by his time in chains, fighting all those creatures and Ganondorf with only a quiver of Light Arrows. I try to shove my imagination away, but I keep picturing Link getting stabbed or shot or—

"Now, Zelda!" Navi shouts, and her voice reverberates powerfully within the chamber even as she shivers.

Closing my eyes, I shove the Master Sword forcefully into the pedestal.

My eyes slowly open. Before, the ceiling had been rumbling with tremors of battle. Now, however, an eerie stillness cuts through the castle above and the chamber where my hands still cling tightly to the hilt of the Master Sword.

As I watch the blade with sightless eyes, something slips out from between the folds of my clothes and flutters to the floor. Mechanically, I watch its progress, and recognition sparks in my eyes. Scattered around me and the sword are tiny, crushed remnants of a mountain forget-me-not.

_I promise I won't, _I silently pledge to Link as my fingers touch pieces of the dried flower. _I promise I won't, _I repeat to myself, like a mantra of strength, as the shock of the situation settles in, and I slowly sink to the floor.

_I promise I won't._


	13. A bdication

Somewhere through the haze of numbness, I hear Navi calling my name. I should answer her, but I just can't muster myself to even move right now. Exhaustion and grief have commandeered by mind, and even these thoughts fade into background noise, something foreign.

Blue-white light surrounds me, and I feel the rough stone of the chamber slipping away. Some distant part of me rejects this, and I clench my fingernails desperately in the dissipating stone. _I can't leave. I can't leave. I can't leave…_

_I can't leave him!_ my mind screams, and I squeeze my eyes shut with a wet slap of sodden eyelashes.

Raindrops splash on my cheek, escorted by a clap of thunder, and I wonder if somehow I've traveled within myself, curled so tightly within that I've found my own private land of introspection.

"Zelda," a whisper calls to me, and I automatically turn my face away. I just need to be alone right now.

"Zelda," more insistent this time, and a ricocheting anger launches itself at the nameless voice.

"What?" I snap, a latent growl thick on my tongue.

"Open your eyes, Zelda," the voice commands, but I keep my eyes firmly shut in defiance. A flash of light paints across my eyelids, and I, assuming the color came from a bolt of lightning, wait for a tell-tale rumble to follow.

Instead, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"I think you'd better listen to them, Zelda; annoying _them_ would not be the best idea."

My eyes snap open thirstily, and after a moment, drink in the sight with weeping, disbelieving relief.

Laughing shakily, I leap from the ground and wrap Link tightly within a hug. My sudden attack throws him off balance, though, and he and I tumble to the ground. With a mirrored version of my own laughter, Link coils his arms around me and kisses the top of my head, my forehead, my nose.

"How?" I ask, bewildered and happy. "I thought…I know you were up there in the castle…" I trail off, and I know a ridiculous smile is spreading across my face.

"Later," he promises. Disentangling himself from me reluctantly, he gestures behind him. "First I think you'd better answer them."

Paling a bit, I scramble to my feet, clasp my hands to my heart, and make a low bow to the three brilliant lights before me. "My Goddesses," I stammer, "I apologize for keeping you waiting."

"You need not apologize to us," an ethereal, gentle voice answers me. "Please rise, daughter."

Slowly, I ascend from my bow and stand erect. For the first time, I take in my surroundings. A rocky, sparsely-vegetated strip of land coils before and behind me, and a ring of clouds embrace a jutting mountain peak. Angry thunderheads roar below my vision, and dying, drained clouds fade away above me.

Like three holes punched in a dark canvas, manifestations of the Goddesses float serenely before me.

"You have questions," they state, and I cannot tell which one spoke; all three voices bounce and whisper off one another.

"Yes," I say, simply.

"Then ask them," they urge kindly.

I take a deep breath and attempt to gather my thoughts. I have so many questions, some of which are only half-formed or a rambling string of words inside my head. "Why?" I finally blurt out inarticulately. "Why did all this…Rothester, Link returning, Ganondorf…why?"

"Even though you successfully trapped Ganondorf within the Sacred Realm years ago, that alone cannot cage him, unfortunately," the Goddesses begin, patiently attempting to answer my incoherent question. "The Triforce of Power still clung to him, so he retained his strength. By the time you had defeated him, he had transformed into a power-hungry beast who fed off of shadow and exchanged blood for hatred, you see. Even though he was imprisoned, Ganondorf fed off the dark thoughts and actions of others. Your late husband, Hieronymous, held many dark intentions within his heart and was the subject of scorn. Ganondorf, who is more than just a physical form, was able to use that black heart as a gateway into the world. He festered under Hieronymous' skin for a time until he was finally able to emerge anew."

"You foresaw this?" I hazard a guess.

"Yes."

"And you could not stop it?" I ask, carefully trying not to sound accusatory.

"No. Although the Triforce came from our power, it is an entity apart from us. We cannot interfere directly with any of the three bearers. So, even though we desired to halt Ganondorf's plot, the best we could do was ask you and Link to lend us your aid once more."

The mention of Link dares me to ask another question that I have long pondered over. "Why did you send Link away from Hyrule?" I query, and I refrain from asking why they took him away from _me_.

"To set destiny in motion," they answer. "We needed you in Rothester, Zelda, and we knew you would have resisted had Link still been with you."

"Wait, what?" I ask, confused. "Why was I needed in Rothester?"

"To give us ample time. The presence of your Triforce and your holy bond to Hieronymous kept Ganondorf's impending presence at bay. His evil fought against you, and he found it more difficult to infect Hieronymous. That gave Link time to return and the citizens a longer amount of time to evacuate. Also, your departure of Hyrule was crucial."

"So, I…did not marry Ganondorf?" I interject tentatively, my heart pounding sickeningly.

"No, child," they answer gently, and a wave of relief washes over me.

Returning to my original question, I ask "Why did we need to leave Hyrule?" even though I have a faint answer forming in my head.

"The only way to trap Ganondorf lay within the Master Sword and the pedestal under Hyrule Castle. However, we did not wish to halt every Hylian's time, we just wished to stop Ganondorf. Since you moved to Rothester, this was no longer a problem."

I nod, and my eyes travel to my surroundings as I try to piece together my next question. I look down over the side of the mountain and, in shock, note that Hyrule is slowly sinking beneath swelling waves.

I tuck a stray, wet strand of hair behind my ear and ask, "What is the purpose of this rain?"

"To further imprison Ganondorf. He is now trapped within time, but there are still those with dark hearts who wish to drink from his cruel ways. This rain will fall until an ocean covers Hyrule, hiding him for many years to come."

"So," I begin, my heart sinking with a gutted, absurd hope, "we will never return to Hyrule?"

The Goddesses flicker, and a mournful, sighing breeze gently blows through the mountain. "No, daughter. Hyrule must be forgotten. There will come a time when its powers will be needed once more, but that time is far in the future. Until then, it must remain untouched and unknown."

A cold chill runs down my spine, and I replay different things the Goddesses have said up until now. Feeling slightly sick, I ask, "Do you mean to imply…Will Ganondorf return again?"

"Yes," they say after a brief, hesitant pause. "Generations from now, your descendants will face him again."

My mind is numb, and I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. I tell myself to stop, but I'm too overwhelmed to do so. "So," I choke out, "this was all for nothing."

"No," the Goddesses say strongly, startling me out of my morose thoughts. "What you have done has guaranteed peace and happiness for hundreds of years to come. Darkness will always rise again, just as the shadow stretches under a noonday sun, but that is no reason not to prevent it while one can."

I turn to Link, realization dawning on me. "You knew, didn't you?"

He nods silently, a guilty expression crossing his features. "That's why I was...upset with _them_ before," he admits, his eyes flicking toward the Goddesses. "I just couldn't understand it then."

Still taking in this new information, I question, "What will happen to our people, then, now that we have no home?"

"You will create new homes here on the mountaintops," they answer. "The Sage of Shadow and her refugees are not the only ones to have escaped the floodwaters. All across the world, people have fled to the mountains with our warnings in mind."

The mention of Impa causes a trill of happiness within my heart. She and the others must still be safe! But another thought strikes me at almost the same time. "What of the Gorons? They refused to come to Rothester. We still are not sure what happened to the Kokiri, either. Were they all trapped within time as well?"

"The Goron race will sleep for a time, until this new world is ready for them. As for the Kokiri, we have given them a new shape and a new purpose. They have become what they were in the beginning, Koroks, and now work to spread life among the new islands."

After a few moments of contemplative silence, the Goddesses ask gently, "Do you have any more questions, either of you?"

Link shakes his head, and his eyes watch the tossing waves below.

I think for a moment, and a spark of mystery suddenly prompts me to ask, "How did I escape from the castle? And where is Navi?"

The Goddesses flare warmly, and I think they must be chuckling. One of the lights separates itself from the others; I see a faintly blue-tinged core within the light, and I assume this Goddess is Nayru.

"I am Nayru," she begins, confirming my suspicions. "but you, Link, probably know me better in this form."

Link, a puzzled expression on his face, turns to the Goddess. The light around her bends and swirls, and suddenly an all-too-familiar form bobs in Nayru's place.

"Hello!" she chirps with Navi's voice.

Link's jaw drops open, his face a mask of stunned incredulity. "You…_you_ were my fairy?"

"Yes," she answers, fluttering her tiny wings. "We knew you were the chosen Hero who would seal Ganondorf away, and we wanted to make sure you had a chance to complete the enormous task given to you. So, I concealed myself in this form and accompanied you. I tried to impart my wisdom to you and guide you through your journey. Once Ganondorf was defeated, I needed to return to the heavens, so I left. You felt compelled to search after me, so you left Hyrule, which was according to what we had planned."

Link rubs a hand over his face. "I…I never even…" he trails off, unable to even express his thoughts in words. I, too, am astonished. I never _imagined_ that Link's companion was my own patron Goddess!

"I came back to guide you once more in this final part. I used my magic to transport you, Zelda, to this place after it was all finished," Nayru explains. With a swirling, pulsing of light, the little fairy expands and takes on the form of a Goddess once more.

"Do you have any other questions we can answer?" they ask, as Link and I stay within stunned silence.

We both shake our heads simultaneously.

"Very well then. There is one more matter to take care of. We must ask you both to abandon your respective Triforce pieces," they request. "You will no longer need them, but your descendants someday will."

Link and I catch eachothers' eyes, mystified.

"How are we to do that?" Link finally asks.

"Renounce them with your mind, your heart, your voice. Let the power within know that danger, for now, has passed," they explain.

I close my eyes and attempt to do just that. I focus my mind strongly on the glowing triangle on my left hand, trying to eject the entity from my body. A strange burning sensation engulfs my hand, and I gasp at the feeling. When I open them again, an empty feeling trickling from my fingertips, I see the Triforce of Wisdom floating above my hand. It shines there for a moment and then floats over to Nayru.

I rub my hand absentmindedly; being without the Triforce of Wisdom is an odd feeling. I glance at Link and note that he, too, has given up his Triforce piece. The Triforce of Courage hovers by its old master for a moment, but eventually returns to Farore.

"Now, Zelda," Nayru says, capturing my attention. "This is for you." A small, glowing triangle floats into my hands, and at first I believe I've been given the Triforce of Wisdom back. But I soon realize that this is only a piece of the original one, and that thought is confirmed by the other half held by Nayru. "You must give this to your daughter, instruct her to give it to her daughter, and so on. One day, a daughter of your line will complete the Triforce of Wisdom and rise up against Ganondorf."

"And the Triforce of Courage," Farore continues seamlessly, "will be claimed by another Hero. But that Hero will have to prove himself worthy before claiming its power." And with that, the Triforce of Courage fractures into eight pieces. Guided by the Goddesses' power, the eight pieces shoot over the new ocean and drop into the churning waters.

"Now," Din finishes, "we take our leave. You may not see us again, but always know that we are watching over you." The light surrounding them grows to an extreme intensity, and I shut my eyes tightly against the glare. Only when the light has faded from the back of my eyelids do I dare crack them open.

The Goddesses are gone, leaving only me and Link behind.

"That," he says, walking over to me, "was a lot to take in."

I give a little laugh. "Yes, it really was. But I still have one more question."

"Well, Zelda, I think you might have missed your chance," he says wryly, gesturing to the empty mountain.

I just shake my head. "No, my question wasn't for them." I reach down and take his hands, marveling that I can still knot these brave fingers within my own. "How did you survive?" I ask, my puzzled eyes searching his.

"Weren't you listening to me before?" he queries, a warm smile on his face. "I promised I would come back to you." Seeing my perplexed expression, he digs in his pocket and pulls out a pulsing green light encased in crystal. "Farore's Wind," he explains. "I found it while we were looking for the Ocarina, and I thought it might be of use."

I take the spell in my hand and twirl in it my fingers wonderingly. "Why didn't you say that before? You could have saved me quite a bit of grief," I admit, wiping under my eyes with a thumb.

"I wasn't quite sure it would work, as I didn't use it in the traditional sense. Normally, you attach the magic to a _place_ you want to return to, but I…altered that a bit." He hesitates, and I flush ever so slightly as his meaning dawns on me.

"And it worked," I surmise, tucking a sopping lock of hair behind his ear.

"Beautifully," he murmurs, kissing me on the lips tenderly. After a moment of reunited bliss, he looks me in the eyes and asks, "So, what now? Do we rebuild Hyrule here, on the mountaintop?"  
I slowly shake my head no, and my brow furrows in thought. "No. Hyrule must be forgotten, as the Goddesses told us. The people remaining must build a new land here."

"And you will lead them?" he asks.

A smile grows steadily on my face. "No, not this time." He looks surprised, and I hasten to explain, "I've grown quite sick of kings, Link, and I'm sure the people have, too. It is time that they rule themselves."

"You've been thinking about this for a long time," he says almost accusingly.

"Ever since you told me of Termina," I admit. "I'm sure there will be problems and some people will have trouble adjusting, but I know we are strong enough to make it through."

Link nods in acceptance and says, "I'm sure we will. It will be interesting, to say the least. Now, what are _we_ going to do?" he asks, placing the emphasis as he twines my hand with his.

"Well," I begin, my eyes turning to newborn waves breaking on virgin shores, "the way I see it, there's a whole new ocean to explore." Even though the lands across the waters are dark with the current storm, my mind paints those distant hills with exotic and heart-pumping colors. For the first time in so many years, excluding those stolen moments with Link, I feel something akin to freedom. There is no crown on my head, no Triforce on my hand, and the one person I can't imagine life without is standing closer than I'd ever dreamed.

I turn back over my shoulder and ask, with a tilt of my eyebrow, "Care to come with me?"

His smile is the only answer I need.


End file.
